Disarm
by letters
Summary: Shizuo realizes his feelings for Izaya and, subsequently, his dire secret. But time grows short, as Shizuo struggles to understand and reach him.  Not a happy story, but HAPPY NEW YEARS!
1. Chapter 1

Hi, all. Thanks for giving this story a try. It's a very sad story, and I got the idea while listening to 'Disarm' from The Smashing Pumpkins, hence the title. Oddly enough, that song has very little to do with the subject matter featured here, but whatever. This story is completed, but it was a little too long to post all at once. I'd love to hear what you think. I'm sure the concept has been beaten to death, but hopefully it's well written enough to offer a new perspective on a popular tale. So, hope you like, and without further ado, I give you Disarm! Part I!

-letters

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><p><em>~Disarm~ <em>

_There are no second chances in life. It is what people like to tell themselves, because forgone opportunities are unbearable. Chance makes it sound as if there is no choice, and there is always choice. They just like to believe that when those choices lead them to poor ends, it was not their doing. It was fate...it was the devil...it was chance. I suppose there are those who do not take credit for all the good things they do, either. In fact, I am sure of it. However, even this group can be split into two smaller, sub groups; one that pays lip service to selflessness to garnish the good graces of other people, and one that realizes the wretchedness of their own human condition. The latter is slightly more evolved, in as much as they see that no one is truly selfless. But I am above the rest of humanity. All of my choices belong to no one but me, and I never suffered any delusion that my life was under the control of another. _

_Ah, but that is life. What about death? Yes, indeed, I played my own hand in that as well. When it came down to it, I made my choice, and it was apparently not one I could live with. Will the future I never had be able to forgive me? It doesn't really matter, does it? Nothing ever seemed to matter much. I know, you are holding your breath, on the edge of your seat even, waiting for the "except" that is surely coming, waiting to hear about that one redeeming quality of my sad existence; something that made all the terrible, bad things that I have suffered and done become...bearable. It is the last thing I wanted, really; just another exercise in futility. Such pointless, useless feelings...but I wonder...why is it that I am smiling right now, so close to the end? ...I am so sorry. For the first time in my life, I have regret. Ah, see what you have done? You have unwittingly kept your myriad of promises to end me. This feeling completely eclipses the strongest migraine or any amount of nausea I have endured. It pales everything in comparison, and after it is all said and done, this feeling will be the thing that kills me. But how terrible of me to try and make you feel guilty without any means of defending yourself! Maybe, in this way, I can assure you that I really never loved you. Having established this, I trust that you will not shed too many tears over my passing, if protozoans are even capable of such human emotions. I highly doubt it, and you know it is impossible for me to be wrong about anything. How does that saying go? 'I'll see you in hell'? Not that you are a terrible enough person to warrant the eternal doom of Judeo-Christian mythology, but if it did exist, I like to imagine that they would let you go on field trips, especially if it involved tossing the damned about, a bit. _

_Well...I guess that is all I really wanted to say. It is not much, is it? How out of character of me! But I am too tired to be bothered about it, at the moment. So long, brute! May every bent street sign and dented vending machine you see fill you with fury, as you recall that person that really, truly hated you with every fiber of his being. I honestly cannot recall anyone I have ever hated more. Goodbye, my Shizu-chan._

_-Izaya_

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><p>Shizuo vaguely felt himself being pulled toward the open casket. Once he finally did comprehend it, he could not stay the mounting dread threatening to overwhelm him. As much as his normally unyielding body wanted to resist, all of his strength had deserted him. Gripping at the black tie which complemented the rental suit, he felt like he was being deprived of all oxygen; suffocating. Nothing had made sense since he got the phone call from Shinra a few days prior. He wasn't even there when it happened, and yet, he was here, in a Buddhist temple, being led like a lamb to the proverbial slaughter under the watchful, painfully familiar eyes of people he did not even know. His mind was making a feeble attempt to prepare him, and several nightmarish images flitted across his inward vision of what he would see once the aisle ended. The past few days had reduced his mental faculties to the point of basic instinct. He ate because he instinctively knew he must eat. He slept because he instinctively knew he must sleep. Now, as a crown of raven black hair became visible over the side of the cherry-wooded casket, Shizuo knew, instinctively, he must not look. Unfortunately, the rest of the world was not privy to the inner workings of his current state of mind.<p>

"Shizuo," Shinra whispered. Ah, so it was he that had pulled him so unwillingly from his seat in the very back of the room the wake was being held in. Shizuo figured that made sense. Shinra was one of the only people present he actually did know. Kida Masaomi and Saki Mikajima had been sitting close to him, away from the family. He had heard the girl quietly weep through the priest's incantations, burying her face in a tissue during most of the ceremony. It was a relief to Shizuo, in a way, as he focused on her public expression of grief. Kida's hand stayed on her back, gently rubbing soothing circles, the look on his face more somber than most had ever seen it. It was a look riddled with mixed emotions of anger, jealousy, and sadness, making the often carefree boy, who was also wearing the customary black suit, suddenly seem twice his age. Namie Yagiri had passed them both, walking the opposite way down the isle. She met Shizuo's gaze with her normally harsh countenance, but then, for a brief moment, something softened in her deep brown eyes, speaking to him from beneath the rim of her black, felt hat before quickly looking down at her feet again. Now he and Shinra had climbed the three small steps of the altar, and the amount of incense burning in front of the coffin was overpowering, making Shizuo's eyes burn. He looked upward, over the mound of flowers the funeral home had placed in intricate patterns on tiers, to the picture that resided over them. It wasn't a recent photo, and Shizuo vaguely recognized the person depicted in it. It tugged at distant memories of high school days, when life was simpler, and death was the furthest thing from his mind. Due to the amount of anonymity required at times from the deceased's line of work, Shizuo was not surprised at the boyish face, which smiled mischievously down at them from the confines of the frame. What surprised him was just how much the future had changed him. "Shizuo..." Shinra's voice descended into a sympathetic plea. Startled out of his reverie, Shizuo looked down at the incense he was gripping harshly in his fist, completely forgotten. He held it out to the candle until it was lit, and placed it in the holder next to the other offerings. Immediately turning, he began to walk back to his seat, but Shinra stopped him by laying a hand on his arm. "Don't you want to say good bye?" he asked, in a small voice. "I know he would have liked to hear it from you. And...and I think it will help." Shizuo flinched as if he had been struck, and slowly brought himself to face the altar again. Hesitantly, his eyes fell on polished, black shoes, and it was with great effort he forced them to travel upwards, taking in the lanky, black clad figure with two, ghostly pale hands crossed over the breast of a jacket. It bothered him that the trade mark, silver rings had been removed from his index fingers, as they could not be incinerated. However, perfectly combustible flowers were placed around the body, along with various other items offered from the guests. Someone had folded his favorite jacket and placed it just below his elbow. Yet another person had placed pouches of green tea on his other side. Along with the customary monitory gifts, Shizuo almost smiled when he saw several, small take-out boxes from Russia Sushi, intermixed among the flowers. He guessed the one thing he had not been able to keep a mystery from his precious humans was his favorite food. Fond memories giving him courage, his eyes traveled the rest of the way to Izaya's face. Shizuo let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding.

"He just looks likes he sleeping," he muttered to no one in particular, but Shinra answered with a nod of his head.

"Mmm, indeed."

"It's one of the only times I've ever seen him with his yapper shut..." Shizuo smiled as Shinra let out a nervous chuckle, but it was as if by allowing one emotion to gain a foothold, flood gates had opened, and Shizuo was overwhelmed by a plethora of powerful feelings coursing through him. His smile quickly faded, and he clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth were in danger of shattering from the pressure. Shinra's eyes widened at the sudden shift in his friend, and put a concerned hand on his shoulder, but Shizuo shrugged it off. "God damn you!" his voice thundered throughout the hall, startling all of the previously serene occupants. He gripped the side of the casket until his knuckles were white, and the sound of groaning wood creaked loudly. "God damn you, you fucking flea!" Izaya's family stood in alarm, and the priest was about to interject, but Shinra held up his hand and shook his head, silently asking that Shizuo be allowed to deal with his grief in his own way, as unorthodox as it might be. Shizuo let his head fall with something between a sob and a laugh. "And people say I'm the stupid one...," he growled, tears beginning to fall, sprinkling his hands and sleeves, "You never... You never believed me! Everything was such a fucking game to you, wasn't it? And I couldn't..." Shizuo broke down into incoherence, as he sank to his knees, "I couldn't help you..." he finished, barely above a whisper. Shinra replaced his hand on his shoulder and used his other hand to help Shizuo back to his feet.

"You did help him, Shizuo," he whispered so that no one else would hear them. Shizuo shook his head, unable to speak. "I know he wasn't very good at showing it, but you meant a lot to him. I know you were the only thing keeping him going for so long...but...well... At least now he can rest. You didn't want him to suffer anymore, did you?" Shizuo simply shook his head again and looked back at Izaya. He did look rather peaceful, his face finally free of the ugly contortions of pain. Izaya had always tried not to show how badly he was hurting, even when his morphine levels had been maxed out, but Shizuo knew it had to be a nightmarish existence. So much so, that he was surprised Izaya had not simply overdosed himself into blissful oblivion to escape, but deep within himself, he knew the reason. It made him feel selfish to be so angry, but Izaya always did say that everyone was inherently selfish. At this thought, Shizuo felt his anger melt away, leaving him with the far more painful and quiet feeling of loneliness. Seeing his recovery, Shinra gave him a pat and turned to leave. Shizuo gazed at the body one last time, and ran his hand through Izaya's soft, combed black hair, returning it to a more familiar state.

"See you around, Izaya..."

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><p>Izaya spun slowly around in his office chair, periodically pushing the floor with his foot to maintain momentum. Namie Yagiri studied him from her smaller desk, critically, as he slowly came to a halt. He had been unusually quiet since she'd brought him his mail. Among the many envelopes Izaya still received, despite digital mail, she had been surprised to see one from what looked like a medical company, but was written in Portuguese. The only reason she knew that was because she had typed the Roman letters into a search engine. Now that she was actually taking the time to study him, she realized that Izaya did, indeed, have a few tell tale signs of illness, though the informant's routines hadn't changed, much.<p>

Izaya always seemed to instinctively know when he was being watched, much to her annoyance, and she quickly looked back down at her work once his piercing gaze fell on her. "Oh my, Yagiri-san. Have you finally fallen for me? You haven't taken your eyes off me all day!"

Namie rolled her eyes at his overconfident, self-glorifying tone. "Quite the opposite, I assure you," she did not try to hide the haughtiness in her voice. Izaya looked momentarily crest-fallen, but she knew better than to think it was anything other than an act. "I was just marveling at how even creatures like you get sick."

"Why, I am fit as the fittest of the fiddles, my dearest Yagiri-san!" Izaya chirped, leaning back in his chair and placing his feet on his desk. "But pray do tell me what you have observed. I am most curious to hear."

Namie felt a little uncertain for a moment; something in her employer's tone giving her pause. Izaya smiled pleasantly enough at her, but the atmosphere had shifted, quickly becoming heavy with an anxiety she found almost smothering, as if she were being tested. She cleared her throat and brushed the unspoken intimidation aside as she always did. "You have circles under your eyes, your lymph nodes are swollen in your neck, and you look like you've had some weight loss."

She expected her keen observations would momentarily floor Izaya, but he simply laughed, and began that wretched spinning again in his chair. "Well, with your cooking, how could I not lose weight, Yagiri-san?" He chuckled some more as Namie shook her head, hopelessly. At length, Izaya finally stopped his spinning, and rose from his seat. "Well, I suppose we all have our off days, eh? Even us demigods." She merely glared at him in reply. "And along that note, I don't really want to look at you anymore, so why don't you go home now, Yagiri-san?" Namie looked at him quizzically, as he gathered his read mail together and tossed it in a waste basket, all except that one letter.

"You're really giving me the rest of the day off?" she asked, somewhat suspiciously.

"Consider it compensation for amusing me so," Izaya waved her away, and, after securing the letter in his front desk drawer, began walking towards the stairs.

"Fine. Enjoy your nap. But you're still paying me for today," she informed him as she gathered her purse and keys.

"Oh I don't know," Izaya teased, reaching the bottom of the steps. "I might be too sick and just forget to pay my poor employees."

"I don't really care what was in that letter of yours," she bit, as she walked out the door. "But let me assure you that you will have even bigger problems if my paycheck is even the tiniest smidgen less." And with that, she slammed the door shut, not even noticing the slightly surprised look on Izaya's face.

"Well, well, well..." he smiled slyly to no one but himself. "Bigger problems, she says? Wouldn't that be nice?" He climbed the stairs a little more slowly than usual, making a mental note to write her check out for exactly one yen less. It annoyed him that he was more tired than usual, so early in the afternoon. He hadn't even had proper exercise yet, and there was still work to do; both official and unofficial. Izaya slid on top of his black, downy comforter and rolled on his back to stare up at the ceiling, placing his forearm over his eyes. The minutes slowly dragged by, but even though his body felt exhausted, Izaya's mind refused to rest. He didn't feel frightened. Though still young at the age of 23, the informant had learned there was little point in worrying about the inevitable. He let his arm fall to his side and followed the spinning blades of the fan with his keen, brown eyes that seldom missed any detail, no matter how small. That's how he knew even before he got the letter in the mail that something in the intricate workings of the familiar Deus Ex Machina had begun to fail, and there was little even a god could do to help him. "And that is why," Izaya sighed, giving up on the chase of sleep after half and hour and forcing his resisting body out of bed, "Izaya Orihara helps himself." He prepared a pot of green tea, and resumed his perch in front of his computer, which overlooked the vastness of the glittering, neon jungle that was Tokyo. A moment passed, and he picked up his most personal cell phone. After making a brief call that did not require speaking, he tossed the phone to the side and serenely began destroying unwitting people's psyches in the chat rooms in rare form. Izaya was certain almost everyone's parents had warned them of the dangers of online predators, but that only made it all the more beautiful. He was not the beast anyone ever expected. He was far worse.

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><p>Jian smoothed his black, dress shirt as he exited the elevator later that evening, striding confidently toward a familiar door. His steps echoed through the empty hall, as his boots struck the tiled floor. Once he reached his destination, his projected easy and confident demeanor faltered for a moment, and he tucked a strand of coppery, freshly colored hair behind his ear. His dark, almost black eyes darted nervously to the side before knocking. He didn't usually knock, but the small amount of apprehension he was feeling seemed to warrant it.<p>

"You know it's open," Izaya's curt voice was slightly muffled through the wood. Jian sighed, frustrated with how much this was agitating him, and entered, pushing the door with a flick of his wrist.

"Just trying to be polite, Orihara-sama!" A genuine smile lit his face at the sight that met him. Izaya was surrounded by several large stacks of paper, leaning back in his chair and studying one document with a pair of black framed glasses and a pen in his mouth. The slender man made himself at home on the sofa in the small TV den, and regarded him silently. Jian did not know much about his client, but he did know that Izaya seemed to have the bearing of someone twice his age. You wouldn't have thought it from looking at them, but the fiery haired man was at least four years older. Wise beyond his years, that is what Jian thought every time they met. Whether or not that was a good thing, he could never really say. At length, Izaya removed the pen from his mouth to make a note in the margins.

"You dyed your hair," he commented without looking up.

"Ah, yes," Jian recrossed his legs, nonchalantly, sinking a little further into the plush leather. "Got a little tired of the blonde, you know? It was fun for a while."

"Indeed," Izaya seemed completely immersed in his work, his voice lacking that usual taunting tone, displaying a hard edge instead. It made Jian feel a little ill at ease. "What made you choose red?"

"It's 'Sahara at Dusk', not red!" Jian informed him, tossing his head indignantly. This amused Izaya greatly, enough to lift his eyebrows over the rims of his glasses with an incredulous smile. "And you're supposed to know everything!" Jian tsked, shaking his head. "What are you doing all day long, if you don't even know that?"

Still retaining his fox-like grin, Izaya leaned forward over the desk. "I can see how one would be disappointed," the happy sarcasm started to creep into his voice. "After all, you're working hard to live up to your life ambition as a genderqueer, and you seem to find my research as an informant somewhat lacking."

"Only in the hair department," Jian offered with a shrug, not minding at all to be the target of Izaya's ridicule. It actually made him feel more comfortable, as that was more par for the course. The previous silence from the informant was odd, indeed. "I'd say you're exceptionally informed, otherwise."

"Ah, I'd almost feel flattered if I didn't pay you so much!" Izaya threw the stack of papers he was holding to the side, and removed his glasses. "They say red heads lack self confidence. Is this your indirect cry for positive reinforcement, Jian?"

"Take it as you like it, Orihara-sama."

For the first time since his arrival, Izaya looked directly at him and smiled, evilly. "I liked you better, blonde."

"I'll have you know," Jian rose from his seat now that he had Izaya's full attention, stretching as if completely unfettered, "you're the first to say so. My other clients were quite enthusiastic about it." He walked next to the informant's desk to lean against it. Without any pretense, Izaya's hand flew to his collar and gave it a firm pull, causing Jian to lose his balance and fall with his back across the flat surface. With his boots on, he was at least seven centimeters taller than the dangerous looking man glowering over him, but that did little to bolster any sense of ascendancy, especially now that Izaya was removing them.

"My, my," Izaya mumbled, gently pressing his lips to the side of the startled man's face. "I suppose I'll just have to make you forget about all of your other clients..." Jian moaned as Izaya twisted his body toward him by his belt loops, still feathering is neck lightly with kisses. Izaya paused, standing up straight to remove his shirt. "Oh, no," he smiled, expertly unbuttoning the front of Jian's own shirt, exposing his chest. "None of those rehearsed theatrics, tonight..." His hand glided over to the wall beside him, turning the lights off.

"Orihara-sama...?"

"Jian," Izaya stepped out of his familiar jeans and quickly stripped the other man of his slacks. "You look thin."

"Ah, you're not going to ask for a refund, are you?" Jian narrowed his eyes before laughing as Izaya tugged him off the desk and laid him on the floor. The informant's mouth spread in a Cheshire grin, and he gripped Jian tightly around his naked hips.

"No..." he responded, positioning himself over the smaller man's entrance. "Because you're not going to die," he declared, thrusting into him all at once. Jian stifled a cry and arched his back, before adjusting to the harsh intrusion.

"We all die eventually, Orihara-sama," he managed, his voice short and breathy. Izaya chuckled, the vibration sending a shiver through Jian's body as the informant's lips sought his own. It was completely forbidden within the agency, but Jian found himself caring less and less how this one particular client behaved.

"Not you," Izaya broke the kiss. "You must live forever," he breathed into his neck, grinding against his hips. Jian threaded his fingers through Izaya's raven black hair and moaned again, but this time, there was nothing contrived about it. Izaya responded by putting his knees on the floor and lifting the other man up by the small of his back, until he was straddling him. Jian placed his hands on Izaya's shoulders, and gazed down at him with lustful, dark eyes.

"So thoughtful today, Orihara-sama," he spoke quietly, gasping as Izaya took full advantage of the new angle, placing one hand on the floor to steady himself and the other around the Jian's fully erect length. "You don't have to do that," he laughed airily, letting his face fall into Izaya's hair, which was quickly becoming damp with sweat. "It's not what I'm paid for."

"Don't you know that the customer is always right? Who's not very good at their job, now?" Izaya murmured into his chest, continuing his rhythmic thrusting and ministrations until Jian's entire body went rigid and his nails began to bite into his pale shoulders. If this had been the normal course of business, Jian would have passionately wailed his admiration for his client's love making capabilities, and it would have all been lies. Most of the people he slept with were not the slightest bit interested in his pleasure or comfort. Of course, Jian knew Izaya wasn't really either, but he had learned very quickly on their first encounter that the mysterious informant did not care for insincerity, and took greater pleasure in manipulating and causing him to react than he ever did in his own sexual gratification. However, it was not lost on Jian that something was different tonight, even as he climaxed, panting heavily, as his head fell to Izaya's shoulder. He was surprised when Izaya didn't immediately shove him off to fetch a towel, and even more surprised when Izaya laid him gently back down, without pulling out. It occurred to him that his client might want to finish, as he just realized only he had, but Izaya rested on top of him, unmoving. Jian looked down at him, curiously, but he could not see his face. The informant tightened his arms around his midsection, grinding his forehead into the thin man's breastbone, as if agitated. With a sympathetic smile, Jian lightly rested his hand on the back of Izaya's head, and stroked his hair, comfortingly. This only made Izaya tighten his hold, until Jian could scarcely breathe, and they stayed like that for a while, in silence.

"Are you afraid?" Izaya asked, his voice unusually quiet and muffled against the other man's skin.

"Ah..." Jian sighed. "A little, maybe... I'm sorry, but this will probably be the last time you see me, Orihara-sama. I'm supposed to quit the agency next week." He felt Izaya's limbs slacken, before one of his arms darted out and brought a flick blade to his throat. Jian flinched as the cold metal touched his heated skin.

"Would you like me to end it for you, now?" Izaya's voice was completely void of all emotion. Jian met his intense gaze, and he couldn't help but feel that looking directly into Izaya's eyes was like looking into that of a snake's; completely cold and unyielding. It sent a shiver up his spine. "I can promise that you will only feel a little pain."

Regaining his composure, Jian smiled warmly up at the man. "Thank you, Orihara-sama, but I have to decline. My life, though a little sordid and tawdry to the rest of the world, is something very precious to me. Well, what little there is left of it," he laughed at the last part.

"That's a foolish notion," Izaya bit, sitting up and withdrawing his blade with a snap of his wrist. "There will come a time when you are longing for this knife."

"Maybe so," Jian sat up as well. "And maybe when that time comes, I will be the one giving you a call." He rose shakily to his feet, and would have stumbled if Izaya hadn't quickly caught his elbow with a grim look on his face. "So thoughtful," Jian echoed again. Izaya frowned in disgust and quickly dropped his arm, but Jian shrugged off this hostile behavior, and, after regaining his balance and coughing into his shoulder, he began gathering his scattered clothing. Without asking or waiting for an invitation, he lithely trotted up the steps to use the shower in the master bathroom. A few minutes later, he emerged, fully dressed and drying his hair with a towel. The lights were still off, but Jian could see the informant's slender silhouette, illuminated by the lights of the city filtering in through the bay window. Izaya had dawned a black, silk robe, and was leaning his back against the wall, gazing downward as he sipped on a mug of tea. As Jian approached him, he became aware of a clamor in the street below. Angry shouting and the sound of sirens became louder and louder, and he leaned on Izaya's shoulder and peered curiously at the scene beneath them. A blonde man, dressed as a bartender, yelled furiously in their direction, shaking his fist before quickly turning to throw a trashcan at a cluster of terrified policemen. One of the officers got up the nerve to shoot him with a Taser, which momentarily made the blonde man fall to one knee before his rage returned ten fold. "Oh my..." Jian's eyebrows shot up as the blonde man began to uproot a tree. A deep chuckle reverberated in Izaya's chest before the informant burst out laughing. Startled, Jian quickly took a step back. "Someone you know?"

Izaya looked at him in complete amusement. The light glinted in his eyes and he bared his teeth in a terrible grin. "Yes, can't you tell? We're friends!"

"I will fucking murder you! IZAYA!" the blonde man's cries were louder that the commotion around him, causing the building's walls to tremble, as if in fear.

"Friends...?" Jian sounded doubtful, arching a fine eyebrow.

"Mmm," Izaya took another sip of his drink and continued to watch the show. "The best."

"I didn't fucking rob that convenience store!" the blonde man roared at the police, taking a swing at them with the uprooted tree. They quickly lept out of the way, as it smashed into one of their patrol vehicles. "IZAYA!" he turned back to the window, "Get down here and show your fucking face, you coward!"

Izaya laughed again, before waving and pulling the blinds shut. Jian looked at him a bit incredulously. "You framed him?"

"It's how we play," Izaya smiled and shrugged, turning the lights back on. He sat down at his desk and retrieved his checkbook and a pen. Jian shoved his hands into his pockets and studied Izaya's face, as his client replaced his glasses and flipped open the billfold. The smile on his face was nostalgic and sad, and Jian was just now noticing the dark circles under his eyes that almost reflected his own. For the first time since he had met Izaya Orihara, he felt like he understood him a little. He gazed knowingly at the window, now covered by blinds, and felt a twinge of pity in his chest.

"What's his name?"

"Shizuo Heiwajima," Izaya said, simply, as he began to swiftly fill out a check, the scratching of his pen sounding very loud in the open, empty space of his condo, "strongest man in Ikebukuro."

"Ah... Heart of gold?"

"To be sure. Who am I making this out to?"

"'Shinjuku Personal Assistant Agency'."

Izaya winced as if in pain. "Astounding. Tell them not to get too carried away with the creativity." He tore the check out of the book and held it out to him. "Thank you for 'assisting' me, tonight."

Jian plucked the check from his hand and glanced at it. He did a double take. The amount was at least ten times the normal fee, and Jian slowly lowered the check and stared at Izaya with large eyes. The informant was already back to work, reading a report, as he slowly turned in his chair. "Um...Orihara-sama...This is a little much...I mean, you didn't even-"

"I'm going to miss you, when you are gone, Jian." Izaya spoke without looking up. Jian fell silent and tilted his head before closing his eyes and smiling, sadly. He reached out and swept his hand through Izaya's hair, good naturedly, before heading toward the door.

"Good bye, Orihara-sama. For what it's worth, there are better ways to express your feelings than framing the one you love ."

"Love?" Izaya spun around in his chair with a laugh. "Oh, Jian! You could not be any more silly than you are right now, at this very moment!" As fast as he had begun, he abruptly stopped his twirling and favored him with another evil smile. "I love all my humans! But Shizu-chan is not a human." The smile was quickly replaced by a deep scowl. "He is a monster, and I hate him."

Jian smiled, sweetly, at him for a moment, before opening the door. "As you like it, Orihara-sama. I wish you happiness, whatever that may mean to someone like you." He left, shutting the door behind him, but Izaya continued to gaze at the place where he had stood long after.

* * *

><p>Every day, Izaya went to high school completely dazed. Having gone through the mandatory physical, his parents received the news a mere few days before school started. His mother had cried in the doctor's office. His father had looked at him with a mix of contempt and disgust. As for himself, Izaya stared blankly at the world, the blood in his veins feeling like ice water. It really was the ultimate betrayal, and it vexed him greatly that even though he was being given a death sentence at the age of 15, nothing in his outward appearance showed any signs. Other than the mind numbing fear, he felt completely fine. Oh, but the endless sea of questions eventually brought him out of the fearful corner he had retreated to in his mind, and he was filled with an astounding amount of rage, unlike anything he had ever thought possible. He didn't give them the man's name, but until the day the traitor died, he made his life miserable. Later on, Izaya would even credit himself with causing that particular person's premature death, a personal satisfaction he could not have enjoyed if the man had been in jail. He also devoured every last piece of information he could find on the virus that now invaded his body, but these things did little to quell the anger churning inside him. At the end of the day, Izaya felt corrupted and filthy, and he often felt the compulsion to rake his fingernails across his skin, as if there were some way to physically tear the illness out of his body. He used to take great pride in his appearance, and now he could barely bring himself to look in the mirror, let alone anyone in the eye. He kept his gaze cast downward at his feet, as he entered the school yard with the other, happier teens, laughing and talking among themselves. Izaya used to have quite the reputation for being a trouble maker in middle school; a reputation he was quickly losing. At times, he would go entire days without speaking to anyone at all. During those long stretches of silence, he couldn't help but wonder if he should just end it before things got worse. The lack of control he now sensed over his fate was becoming unbearable. These same, troubling thoughts plagued him one sunny, spring afternoon in the school yard, after lunch. Though he did not know what was wrong, his long time acquaintance since middle school, Shinra Kishitani, patted him sympathetically on the shoulder, as the dejected looking teen sat on the back rest of a bench with his feet on the seat, ignoring him for the most part. Suddenly, they both heard a loud commotion, and looked in the direction of the extramural sports field.<p>

"Ah, Shizuo!" Shinra smiled, pointing to the tall, apparently very angry, blonde currently throwing around twenty bodies into the air, along with the field goals.

Izaya blinked at the scene in front of him, a devilish smirk beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Who?" he asked, making sure his voice sounded anything but interested.

"Shizuo Heiwajima! I met him on my first day here! He's simply amazing! Look at that!" the nerdy youth clapped his hands as Shizuo swung two of his school mates around by their collars, before sending them flying over a retaining wall. "I've never met anyone so strong! Ah, how I wish he'd let me have a sample of his muscle tissue! Just a sliver!" Shinra held two fingers close together for emphasis. Izaya rolled his eyes and continued to watch the blonde youth massacre the unfortunate high schoolers with gusto. His smirk slowly faded into a genuine smile, as his mood lightened. Somehow, watching the unbridled rage before him made him feel...strangely better. He could practically feel the air humming around him with an electric intensity, and it thrilled him. Izaya immediately found this Shizuo Heiwajima very intriguing. "But he threw a desk at me the last time I asked him," Shinra sighed.

"You should introduce us," Izaya said quite suddenly, not taking his eyes off the incredible display of force unfolding before him. Shinra blinked at his directness and smiled with a shrug.

"Okay, sure!" He turned and put a hand by the side of his mouth. "Hey Shizuo!" he hollered over the commotion. Shizuo paused in his destructive activities, still holding a boy by the front of his shirt, and threw them an angry stare over his shoulder, as he panted from the exertion. "Come here!" Shinra shouted happily, gesturing his other arm toward them. Complying, Shizuo gave the student a quick head butt and let him fall to the ground, before shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a few steps in their direction. He stopped at least 5 meters short of them, and stood standoffishly, regarding them with a deep frown.

"What?" he asked, flatly.

The fact that he even listened to Shinra proved that the two at least shared an acquaintanceship of sorts, and Izaya straightened his back as the blonde's honey brown eyes fell on his. Shinra pointed to Izaya with his thumb. "I wanted to introduce you to one of our school mates! This is Izaya Orihara. We went to middle school together!"

Izaya felt his hairs stand on end, as he gazed back at Shizuo with a confident and cocky smile. Shizuo scratched the side of is face, leaving a streak of mud. "So?" It sounded like a demand. Shinra cleared his throat a little nervously.

"Well, I thought I'd introduce you two, since you're both my friends...," he paused as Shizuo's lip began to curl. "Kind of!" Shinra quickly added. "I mean, you know, you like to throw things at me a lot, and Izaya was kind of an asshole in middle school... Actually, you both are pretty bad friends!"

Izaya smiled, closing is eyes, coyishly. "Shinra, that's so rude," he admonished.

"Shut up. I don't like you."

One of Izaya's light brown eyes popped open in surprise at the gruff voice. "Oh, yeah?" he questioned.

"Uh...," Shinra blinked hesitantly back and forth between the two, taking a step back.

"Yeah!"

"And why might that be, Shizu-kun?" Izaya gave his head a toss and looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"There's something wrong with you!" Shizuo growled, turning his head away to leave. "And I don't like it! I don't like you!"

Izaya jerked his head back, feeling a jolt of self loathing wash over him. He quickly recovered, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "My, my. Well, you know what they say about first impressions! Such a shame! I thought you and I could have some fun, together!" he sighed wistfully, leaning back on his elbow. He barely lept out of the way in time, as Shizuo's fist came crashing down on the bench, smashing it in two and sending splinters flying everywhere. Izaya quickly circled around his back, and as soon as Shizuo turned to strike at him again, he left a long gash across the blonde boy's chest with his flick blade. He had carried it around since middle school, but the brunette currently sporting a maniacal grin had never actually used it to harm another person, before. Izaya wasn't the least bit sorry. His knife would never cut as deep as the grievous and utter rejection he'd just received. It cut Izaya to the bone. "See?" he laughed, jerking his knife upwards, "Isn't this fun?"

Shizuo merely scowled at him, clutching his now blood drenched and slashed shirt. Shinra stood with his mouth gaping, completely dumbfounded. Izaya's eyes flashed, dangerously, as he quickly tucked his blade away, turned, and ran. Shizuo didn't chase after him.


	2. Chapter 2

Shizuo grit his teeth as he slipped on and undershirt and buttoned his white dress shirt in front of his bedroom mirror. Every day, he had to look at the long scar reaching across his chest, and every day, he was reminded of who gave it to him. Would Izaya Orihara really be the first person he thought of every morning for the rest of his life? It was a most irritating thought. Shizuo snorted, and turned away from his reflection, slipping on his vest. Yet, now that he had started thinking about Izaya, he found himself wondering what the devious informant was plotting. In fact, Shizuo hadn't seen Izaya for the past couple of months, not since the last time the bastard had framed him. That had been a pain. They went a little easy on him, because he was found innocent of the robbery, but there were slight repercussions for swinging large trees at them and destroying one of their vehicles. He started to grind his teeth as he wrapped a bow tie around his neck. Sure, the fact that the fines and couple of nights of jail time had been a result of his temper, and not really the flea at all did not escape him, but damn it! Izaya knew how he would respond. He delighted in giving Shizuo ample opportunities to screw himself over, and Shizuo very rarely disappointed him. With a snarl, Shizuo whirled around and punched the mirror with his fist, sending glass shards scattering across the floor. How long had they been playing this game? Since high school, Shizuo guessed. Ever since Shinra introduced him to the devil, himself. Shizuo could barely even remember it. The bodyguard shook his bleeding knuckles and wrapped a sock around them until he finished dressing. Why did the flea love to cause him so much misery? The thought had flitted absently through his mind, and he quickly shook his head.

'It's not just me. That flea wants every last human on the planet to be miserable.'

But Shizuo was not one to be emotionally toyed with. In complete honesty, he really wasn't much for conversation at all. Sicking gangs of idiots and cops on him was really the only way Izaya could involve him in his twisted, little games, since his brother wasn't readily accessible. Shizuo missed his brother, but he was actually glad that Kasuka wasn't in town very often for that reason, alone. Well, in any case, the flea was staying out of his hair for the time being. He finished getting ready and left his apartment, slipping his keys into his front pocket, after he locked the door. He flicked open his blue sunglasses, placing them on his face, as he walked into the sunlight, outside. On his way to meet with Tom, Shizuo breathed in the cool, morning air deeply, and drew a cigarette out of his front, breast pocket. Today would be a perfect day for a chase. Shizuo smirked a little at that thought, and quickly, mentally berated himself for even thinking it.

'Still, things have been kind of dull, lately,' he sighed to himself. He hadn't even lost his temper once in the past two weeks. Shizuo supposed that was a good thing. It was good for life to be a little boring. That meant everything was calm, peaceful, and as it should be. He exhaled a stream of smoke, slowly, and smiled. Soon, he was chuckling. If life was as it should be, why did he still feel so restless? 'Man, I must need pills or something...'

"Shizuo!" Tom waived from across the street, holding two, steaming cups of coffee. Shizuo quickly crossed at the corner and joined him, taking the cup he extended to him. "Don't worry. There's more sugar and cream in there than coffee," he smiled.

"Thanks, Tom-san," Shizuo smiled, flicking the ash off his cigarette as he took a sip.

"We're mixing it up a bit, today."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Going to Shinjuku." Shizuo blinked in surprise. "Just got a call that someone's making good on a debt for a man who just died."

"Oh...That's kind of sad, Tom-san," Shizuo pursed his lips dissapprovingly. Tom just laughed, and gave him a slap on the back. Shizuo flinched a bit at the physical contact.

"Shizuo, I swear, you're the biggest softy I ever met! That guy owed something! His family, or whoever, is just doing the right thing by paying up! After all, don't you know that if you die with debts, it weighs you down on your way to heaven?"

"Why would you need to be concerned about money after you die?" Shizuo sighed, twisting out the end of his cigarette and throwing it in a nearby trashcan. "It just doesn't seem right to try and harass people beyond the grave."

"We're not harassing him, we're harassing his family!" Shizuo arched an eyebrow at him. "I mean, we're not harassing ANYONE! Look, they called me. They just want everything settled. Said they'd meet us after the funeral."

"The fucking funeral was today?" Shizuo growled, slapping his palm over his forehead. Tom was afraid for a moment that the man would accidentally light his hair on fire, but his employee had ample practice in navigating the lit end of his cigarette. "That's just low! Can't we bug them some other time? When they're not grieving?" Tom rolled his eyes.

"I'm not completely heartless, Shizuo! I asked if there was another time they wanted to meet, but apparently, they are moving back to China in a couple of days, as soon as everything with the funeral is finalized. Don't worry so much about it! Look, since I'm sure it won't be dangerous, you can just wait outside, okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright, let's take the subway. It'll be faster." Luckily, the debtor's house was not too far from the station, a mere twenty minute walk. Tom glanced at the address on his phone and scanned the medium-income housing around them. "I think it's that one," he pointed to an unassuming house that looked exactly like all the others. Shizuo settled his back against a nearby lamp post and lit another cigarette.

"I'll be here." Tom nodded and walked to the front door. He rang the bell, and the door opened shortly after. Mere seconds after Tom disappeared within the house, Shizuo heard footsteps approach from behind and watched as a long shadow stretched past him. The person stopped very abruptly, and it almost sounded to the bodyguard as if they had been startled. A harsh coughing reached his ears, and he winced a bit. Whoever it was sounded pretty bad off. He casually turned, taking another drag off of his cigarette. "Hey, are you okay-" The cigarette fell from between his lips at the all too familiar gaze that met his own.

"Well, hello there, Shizu-chan! Fancy meeting you, here!" Izaya smiled, shoving the tissue he had been coughing into back in the pocket of the black trench coat he wore. Shizuo was so dumbstruck at the informant's appearance, he didn't speak for several moments. Beneath the over sized coat, Izaya wore a tailored, black suit and tie, with a bouquet of white lilies gripped loosely in one hand. Even with all the clothing, it wasn't difficult to see how emaciated he was. Shizuo could clearly see every bone protruding from his pale, long hands and fingers, and his face was gaunt, making his high cheek bones appear more pointed. His sunken eyes had deep, black circles around them, but they still glimmered dangerously at the body guard. "Tell me, how did you find yourself in Shinjuko today, of all days?"

Shizuo blinked. "You look like shit..." he declared, ignoring his question. Izaya snorted and cocked one of his hips to the side.

"Oh my. Your manners are truly astonishing," he sighed. "Well, I don't really have a defense, except that I did my best. Is it the shoes? My secretary told me the toes were too pointed..."

"It's not the fucking shoes!" Shizuo growled, quickly finding his momentarily misplaced annoyance. "What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you're dying! Is this some sort of trick?" Izaya rolled his eyes and shrugged, letting the flowers bounce against his thigh.

"Yes, a trick, of course. I did all of this for you, because my whole world just revolves around you," he hissed as he swept his free hand in a circular motion. "But in all seriousness, I really don't see how it's any business of yours, Shizu-chan," he grinned, bearing his teeth. "Although I do appreciate your concern for my health! It's very touching! Tell me, how was prison?"

Shizuo grit his teeth, clenching his fists at his side. He'd kind of forgotten about that, until now. "Oh, you know, gets a little easier every time." He smirked, cracking his knuckles. "And you can let me know how the hospital is after I finish with you."

"So scary!" Izaya breathed, sarcastically, as he walked to the fence lining the front of the house to rest against it. "You've been doing such a good job controlling your temper as of late. Please don't let me ruin it for you. After all, this is really just a coincidence. It's unfortunate that I have to look at you today of all days, but that's life. It's just so full of surprises!"

Shizuo straightened his back and narrowed his eyes. Was the flea really being serious? Shizuo regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. He was dressed in black, and he did have flowers... "You went to that guy's funeral?" he asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the house. The look on Izaya's face became positively murderous.

"Yes, _that guy_," his lip curled a bit, as he pushed himself off the fence. "And I know why you're here, now. I take it Tanaka-san is already inside?"

"Uh..." Izaya's tone was really throwing him off. He almost sounded..._angry_. But Izaya Orihara never got angry! What the hell was going on? "Yeah, Tom-san went in right before you got here."

"Well then, I won't keep you any longer than necessary!" Izaya sneered, throwing the flowers to the ground and reaching into his coat. He withdrew an envelope, and tore the end off. Shizuo blinked as the informant shook a large stack of bills into his hand, proceeding to fling it into his face.

"What the?" Shizuo shielded himself, and the paper money hit his arm before scattering across the side walk.

"There. Now get the fuck out of Shinjuku."

Shizuo lowered his arm, his eyes wide. Something wasn't right. None of this was right at all. "Izaya-"

Izaya's knife flashed as he pointed the blade at him. He wasn't even attempting to smile, anymore. "I think there must be something wrong with your hearing, Shizu-chan. This conversation is over, unless you'd like a matching scar to complement the one under your shirt."

"Heh! You look like you can barely hold that knife up," Shizuo snorted, putting his hands in his pockets. "But fine. The sooner I don't have to look at you, the happier I'll be."

No sooner had the words left his mouth when Izaya was seized by another, violent coughing fit. The knife clattered to the pavement, as he gripped his chest and heaved into his arm. It sounded to Shizuo like he was choking, and he started forward when Izaya's knees buckled and gave out. Instinct took over, and he caught the informant just before his head could hit the ground. A jolt of shock swept over him when he saw a thin trickle of blood spill from Izaya's mouth. His breathing was becoming ragged and desperate, as if something were blocking his airways. Shizuo looked around, completely panicked. "What the fuck? Izaya! HEY!" He gave the informant a firm shake, and inwardly shrank when Izaya's listless, brown eyes rolled to the back of his head as he continued to gasp for air.

"Shizuo, what the hell is going on, out here?" Tom looked at his body guard, cradling a somberly dressed, unconscious Izaya Orihara on the sidewalk, surrounded by white flowers and money.

"Oh, Tom-san!" Shizuo breathed, rising more quickly than he meant to. He had seriously underestimated Izaya's weight and almost fell over when he shot to his feet.

Tom lifted his eyebrows. "Did you actually kill Orihara?" he asked, not sounding overly concerned.

"No! It wasn't me!" Shizuo's voice was rushed and frantic. "He was on his way to this house, and we got in an argument, and he just up and fainted!" Tom walked closer and adjusted his glasses to get a better look. Beads of sweat had formed on the informant's brow, but his breathing was beginning to even out.

"Seems pretty bad off," he concluded. "We should get him to a hospital. I think we passed one on our way here. Let's walk back." He quickly gathered his client's money, and after shoving it in his pocket, they both walked quickly in the direction they had come from. Shizuo shifted his hands under Izaya, and held him closer to his chest. What the hell was this nonsense about? He couldn't believe he was doing this. "I can't believe you're doing this," Tom voiced Shizuo's inner thoughts. "I thought you wanted him dead."

"Something's not right."

"He's obviously very sick. He shouldn't have even been out, from the looks of it."

"He was at that guy's funeral," Shizuo said, feeling bad to once again use such general terms, since he didn't even know the man's name.

"No kidding!" Tom's eyes widened. "And he was the one paying his debts off? How oddly altruistic of him!"

"Yeah..." Shizuo's voice became thoughtful. He gazed down at the informant and couldn't help but feel empathetic. Izaya did look very ill, and it seemed that someone he actually cared about had died. And on top of it all, they'd run into each other right after the funeral. It was Izaya's own damn fault there was such bad blood between them, but even he felt guilty of the ill timing of it all. Izaya seemed to have fallen in a deep sleep in his arms, his face flushed with fever. Shizuo frowned, and dug into his pocket for a napkin to wipe the blood from his mouth. Tom looked at him, quizzically for a moment, and smiled.

"You really are a nice guy, Shizuo."

"No one deserves to lose someone they care about, not even fleas," Shizuo grunted, tossing the bloodied napkin in a trashcan. He tried to make his face as stoic as possible to mask the utter chaos he felt inside. He hated Izaya. He couldn't even think of Izaya without becoming agitated. But seeing him like this was somehow worse than the extreme annoyance Shizuo had felt in the past. Something about it was terrifying, and Shizuo didn't understand why. They reached the hospital, shortly, and Izaya was rushed to an emergency room. After Izaya was wheeled away, Shizuo and Tom spoke with a doctor, to try and give them as much information as possible. It wasn't much. Shizuo stared at the door they had taken the informant through for a while after the doctor left.

"Shizuo!" Tom practically yelled.

"Ah! Sorry, Tom-san, what?" he startled, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I was saying we should probably go now."

"Oh...yeah..."

"Or you could stay behind and wait for Orihara to wake up," Tom offered, with a smirk.

"Yeah...Wait! What? Why would I do that?" Shizuo growled. Tom just chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

"How about you just take the rest of the day off, and you can spend it however you like." Shizuo frowned at his employer, suspiciously, before adjusting his sunglasses and smiling.

"Thanks, Tom-san." Tom nodded and turned to leave, but a thought suddenly occurred to Shizuo. "Hey, Tom-san?" Tom paused and turned back around. "What was that man's name? The one who died?"

Tom wrinkled his brow in thought for a moment. "Lai...Jian Lai."

* * *

><p>Izaya's eyes wearily blinked open, and he let out a low groan, bringing a hand to his throbbing head. He felt something on his arm, and looked down to see an I.V. taped to it. He sighed, slowly recollecting the events that led him there.<p>

"Well, thought you were finally going to kick it, for a second," a cold and sarcastic voice came from the chair to his left. Izaya slowly rolled his head over to glare at his secretary, who was busy entertaining herself with a Sudoku puzzle book. She chewed on the back of her pencil as she thought.

"Oh, Yagiri-san," Izaya mumbled. "No one could ever leave you...Well...You know...except maybe your brother...How is he?"

"You seem to be feeling alright enough to be terrible again, so I'm going home, now. Maybe next time, you'll actually listen to me when I tell you to stay in bed."

Izaya smiled as the grogginess began to leave him. "The forecasts are a bit cloudy with a 98 percent chance of not likely."

"You're such a delight," Namie sneered, tucking her book into her purse. "Sounds to me like you're ready for visitors. I'll just let the nurse know on my way out." Izaya immediately tried to sit up.

"Wait a second, Yagiri-san! Who-?" But the woman was already gone. Izaya grit his teeth at the new pounding in his head, and sank back down. He looked out the window, surprised to see that it was already dark. He'd blacked out for a while, this time. Hearing footsteps approach, his eyes flickered to the doorway. He immediately groaned, and attempted to roll over. He was firing Namie as soon as he got out of this place.

Shizuo stood in the doorway, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. "Look, I know you don't want to see me..." he began.

"Oh, why not?" Izaya laughed, emptily, turning on his back again and staring up at the ceiling. His chuckle was quickly stifled by small coughs. "I can't think of a more fitting end to this perfect day!"

Shizuo frowned, and tapped the front of his shoe against the tiles he was currently directing all of his attention to. "Well...what I wanted to say is...I'm sorry."

Izaya looked at him, incredulously. "You're sorry...because I got angry, yelled, and had a bit of a fainting spell? Please, don't even waste my time."

Shizuo ground his teeth, but he would not meet Izaya's gaze. "A _bit _of a fainting spell...?" he grumbled. "No, not that. I'm sorry...that your friend died."

Izaya favored him with a sinister smile. "I don't have friends, Shizu-chan. I have associates and acquaintances."

"Well then, I'm sorry that whichever of the two Jian-san was, died." The smile faded from Izaya's face at the mentioning of the name, and he directed his gaze back out the window. "And I'm sorry that you had to run into me right after the funeral. And I'm sorry you're si-"

"Why are you doing this, Shizuo?" Izaya suddenly asked, his voice completely hollow. "What is it you want?"

Shizuo blinked at the question, and shook his head. "I don't want anything from you. Well, I want you to get better real soon. I think I've been getting kind of fat from not chasing you around as often," he chuckled a bit nervously and patted his stomach.

Izaya rolled his head over to look at him. To Shizuo, it seemed like he was actually studying his physical features, and no matter how hard he fought it, he felt a small blush creep into his face. Izaya's eyes traveled slowly up his form, until he was looking directly into Shizuo's eyes. "Well, you are getting a little pudgy. You might want to invest in a treadmill." Shizuo snorted and took long strides across the room to sit down in the chair Namie had previously occupied. He gripped the armrests and scooted closer to the bed. Izaya watched him, slightly bemused. "Oh, staying for a while, are we?"

"Yeah, well, seems like it would be pretty boring just lying here with nothing to do. Thought maybe you'd want to talk or something." The look Izaya threw him was priceless; a mixture of surprise and complete amusement. "What? You like to talk, right?" Shizuo defended.

"When it suits me."

"It doesn't 'suit' you now?"

"Perhaps," Izaya smiled. "What are we going to talk about?" Shizuo thought for a moment, and shrugged.

"Whatever? I dunno. The weather was good, today."

"Surely there's something better than that," Izaya chided. "Something like, why are you really here?"

"I told you!" Shizuo growled. "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry!"

"And you did," Izaya smirked. "Why are you still trying to make me feel better?"

Shizuo faltered for a moment, and clenched and unclenched his hands, nervously. "Well...It's just that I always really hated hospitals..."

Izaya raised an eyebrow, but the look on his face was one of genuine surprise. "That only makes it more puzzling that you haven't left, yet. Have you been here all day waiting for me to wake up?"

Shizuo nodded. "Yeah, kinda," he mumbled. "I don't know, flea. I just do what feels right. Is that so hard to understand?"

"Not at all!" Izaya tossed his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. "It's quite in keeping with your brawny, brain dead, oafish character," he sighed.

"You think I'm stupid. I get it. Maybe I am, a little, but you're kinda stupid, too, Izaya." Izaya's eyes popped open and roved to the side to look at him. "I mean, you like to put people in these little boxes in your stupid flea brain, and once someone's in one of your stupid boxes, they can never get out. It's..."

"Stupid?"

Shizuo ignored him. "You can't do that to people."

"Sometimes," Izaya grinned, "I afford them the opportunity to switch boxes. One should never underestimate people, after all. They are fascinatingly predictable and random at the same time. Like you, for instance!"

"Huh?"

Izaya slowly propped himself up on his elbows. "You hate me. You've tried to kill me multiple times. The first time we met, you said there was something wrong with me and that you didn't like me."

"I said that...?" Shizuo attempted to remember, but Izaya continued on as if he hadn't heard.

"However, you're not a complete hurricane of a human being. There are some things I know to be constant with you. You're strong. You've got a bad temper, but you're what most people would consider to be a nice guy, regardless. Which is another thing I find of great interest."

"What's that?"

"You've probably behaved violently more often than any human in this city, yet if someone were to compare me to you, I would be the bad guy."

"It's because you're a dick."

"Ah, but at least they don't have to fear me smashing their skulls in."

"True...Huh...Never really thought about it that way."

Izaya rolled his eyes. "What a shock. The point is that it's all about intent, not actions. In this way, humans behave very illogically."

"Is that why you don't like people?"

"Oh my, Shizu-chan!" Izaya gasped, dramatically. "I LOVE humans! They are so wonderfully chaotic and fun to watch!"

"See? This is why people don't like you." Shizuo put an elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his hand. "You're a dick."

"Do you honestly think whether people like me or not is at all relevant in this universe?"

"It should be relevant to you. How can you say you love people if you're always hurting them?"

"Shizu-chan! You're breaking my heart! I don't _hurt_ people! I simply help them discover their true self!"

"Whatever. I bet I know why. It's because you really don't like yourself, do you?"

Izaya glowered at him a moment, before an easy smile returned to his lips. "Maybe I just love myself too much."

"It's not that, otherwise you wouldn't bother."

"Is someone trying to break out of the brainless, ogre box I've put them in?" Izaya tsked. Shizuo frowned.

"You said before that it was puzzling that I was still here. Well, what if I think it's weird you haven't kicked me out, yet, or called security on me?"

Izaya's eyes lit up, and suddenly, Shizuo was afraid he'd just given the informant new ways to torment him. "Touché, Shizu-chan. I must confess, that I don't really know myself. Maybe we can just chalk that up to my illness, neh?"

Shizuo almost heaved a sigh of relief. "Sure. What ya got, anyway?"

"Ugh, bad chest cold, I suppose," Izaya shrugged, scrunching his face and twisting the sheets in his fists. "They're probably going to run some tests and what not. All that nonsense, you know?"

"Man, and people say I'm tough," Shizuo chuckled, shaking his head. "I was pretty sure you were dying there, for a second!"

Izaya mirrored his silly grin. "Would that have made you quite happy, Shizu-chan?"

"You know what? Not really. I thought that it would, but you're kind of nice to be around when you're not being an ass." He rose from his chair and stretched his arms in front of him, interlacing his fingers. "Well, I'm heading out before I catch more of your sick, flea germs. And you probably need to sleep anyway." Izaya just stared at him with a completely blank expression. "I'm sure you'll be better in no time, and then you'll come running back to Ikebukuro to piss me off, again. And then I'll probably throw something at you, but...for the record," he shoved his hands inside his pockets and flashed a large and warm smile, "This was nice while it lasted."

The informant smiled back up at him, finding himself unable to tear his gaze away. "While it lasted," he agreed, his voice tinged with an emotion he barely recognized, anymore.

"Well, bye, then." Shizuo gave a wave over his shoulder and walked out the door, leaving Izaya to marvel at what had just transpired.

And marvel he did. Suffering from the unrelenting insomnia, Izaya thought about Shizuo a great deal of the night. What was the brute thinking, acting like he actually gave a damn? Izaya puzzled over his possible motivations and came up with nothing. He had certainly never given Shizuo any reason to like him, that much was for certain. And even if he were Ikebukuro's own Jesus Christ in the way of forgiveness and charity, Izaya still doubted the bodyguard would wait around all day just for that. He recalled the words used; 'I just do what feels right', implying that Shizuo had given his actions only a fraction of the thought Izaya was now lavishing upon them. The informant rolled on his side, and smiled, bitterly. He couldn't help but wonder what the outcome would have been if he had told Shizuo the truth. What would the neanderthal have had to say to that? He'd no doubt be very sorry for him, maybe even afraid of him. Well, Izaya would never know, for sure, and he had no true desire to find out. None of this was how he wanted to be remembered, but some of the labeling and pity was unavoidable.

Izaya's mood began to grow darker and darker with each passing minute. Everything he had worked to build in his life was going to be undone, so easily. He could already see it unraveling in the way his clients looked at him with uncertainty and the intent, concerned stares he received from Namie when she thought he was preoccupied. It was all going to fall apart.

One of the nurses on the night shift entered his room, interrupting his reverie. She checked his I.V., and the fluid levels in the bags hanging on the rack next to the bed. Izaya squinted his eyes at her, but was all smiles when she glanced down at him.

"What are you still doing awake, Orihara-san?" She smiled through her mask in a friendly way, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the quiet too much. She wore green scrubs, and had her hair pulled back in a pony tail to make her work easier. Izaya could immediately tell that she was in her early thirties by the faint lines on her face and the almost mechanical way she went about her job. She stood out a little more than the other nurses, because one of her eyes was brown, but there was a mixture of a hazel-green coloring in the left iris. He saw the faint outline of where a wedding band used to be on her left hand in the dim light, and his smile broadened.

"Oh, just thinking," he said, quite innocently. "How late does one usually stay on the night shift?"

"Um, until about five or so," she whispered.

"But you got here at five this evening!" Izaya pretended to be horrified. The woman chuckled.

"Yes, we have long shifts. We're a little short handed, at the moment."

"That must be so hard on your husband! He must miss you, a lot!"

"Oh, Orihara-san! You're sweet, but I'm not married! Well, not anymore..."

"What? Such an enchanting person is not spoken for? Tell me, did the man die in a tragic act of valor to preserve your honor?"

The woman seemed to flinch, and she began wringing her hands in an agitated fashion. "N-no. We're divorced, now. It was just finalized last week..."

Izaya exhaled. Music to his ears. "I see. I'm so terribly sorry to hear that. Sometimes, people aren't who we thought they were, neh?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't that. He was a very nice man. I'm sure it was my fault. I do work a lot, like you said. Maybe it did make him sad," she glanced away, and Izaya could see the sheen of tears gathering in her eyes. "Well, if you don't need anything Orihara-san, I'll just-"

"Who'd he leave you for?" Izaya asked, still retaining his wide-eyed persona.

"I-I don't really think that's any of your business," the nurse tried to make her voice firm.

"Was it your sister?"

Izaya couldn't suppress a wicked smile when the woman startled. "How did you know that?" she whispered, harshly.

"Well, it can't be because she's better looking, so it must just be something wrong with you," Izaya declared, ignoring her question altogether. Her back stiffened for a moment, and she quickly looked down at the floor. "So, what would that something be?"

"I really don't know," her voice was so low, Izaya had to strain to catch her words.

"Must be your winning personality."

"Are you making fun of me?" she asked, angrily, her voice rising in pitch.

"I most certainly am!" Izaya laughed. "It's pretty easy to do, don't you think?"

The nurse said no more, and swiftly left the room, Izaya's smile leaving with her. He snuggled into his blanket, trying to make himself comfortable. She'd certainly think about that for a good, long while. It tickled him to know that he could affect people so easily. As he was indulging in his self satisfaction, Shizuo's smile suddenly flickered in his increasingly hazy mind. The nurse must have put a sleep aid into his I.V. Izaya frowned as his eyelids became too heavy to lift. The image in his mind was vivid, and warm, and it made his intestines feel like they were twisting in knots. In the simple radiance of an act that took no thought for him, Shizuo had once again made Izaya feel wretched. The only difference was that now Izaya truly had no one else to blame. He drifted into a deep, medically induced sleep that, thankfully, held no promise of dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Shinra shook his head, as he plucked another piece of brown glass from Shizuo's arm. "Tom should have had more common sense than to try to collect money in a bar..." he muttered. Shizuo shrugged. Celty hovered over him, gripping her hands against her chest, and wincing every time Shinra was able to pry another piece of glass from the bleeding and irritated skin. She had gotten home during the procedure, and after fussing at Shizuo adequately for getting hurt via text, proceeded to watch with what he could only assume to be some strange sort of fascination. Shizuo gave her a lopsided grin when Shinra was able to extract another piece with his tweezers.

"It's doesn't hurt, Celty-san," he chuckled. She gave a little shiver, and finally walked away to settle at her computer and chat, online. "I'm surprised she's home," he glanced at Shinra, who was concentrating on an especially deeply embedded shard. "Doesn't she work a lot at night?"

"Ah, well," Shinra sighed, giving up on that piece for now and moving on to another, "One of her best clients hasn't been calling so often, lately. I'm enjoying having her home more often, but I think she's getting a little restless."

Shizuo nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's not fun to sit around doing nothing, I guess." His mind flickered back to Izaya's frail form, lying limply in the hospital bed. Surely it had been enough time for the flea to recover from a chest cold! And yet, another two weeks had gone by, and Shizuo had seen neither heads or tails of the informant. "Hey, you heard from Izaya, lately?" he asked Shinra out of the blue.

"Nuh-uh," Shinra gave his head a little shake.

"Maybe he's still in the hospital."

"Izaya was in the hospital?" Shinra furrowed his eyebrows. "That's odd. Usually, he comes to me for all of his medical issues."

"Well, this time he didn't really get the chance." Shinra paused, and glanced up at him quizzically, and Shizuo told him the entire story of how he had run into Izaya in Shinjuku, and wound up taking him to the hospital. He didn't notice the black rider slowly get up from the computer to lean against the door way, listening, her arms folded. Shinra heard him out, quietly, his frown deepening.

"That's not a chest cold," he asserted, once Shizuo was finished. "Sounds like some kind of severe infection. If he was sick, I wonder why he didn't just come to me."

"Does he come to see you a lot?"

"About as often as you do, I suppose. Although I haven't seen him in a few months. I suppose his illness explains it. It was very nice of you to take him to a hospital, Shizuo! I'm proud of you!" the doctor smiled, scrunching his eyes shut, happily.

"Tch!" Shizuo tossed his head to the side. "I'm not that much of a monster, you know. He actually looked...kinda...sad."

"Hmm," Shinra nodded. "Well, in the very least, it sounds like he's staying out of trouble."

"That doesn't...kind of...worry you?" Shizuo muttered, not making eye contact when the doctor raised his head to blink at him.

"Does it worry _you_?" he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice.

Shizuo ground his teeth. "Of course not!" he growled. "But I thought, you know, you guys were kind of like friends still, or something. After all, you introduced us, right?"

"Mmmmm, I'm not sure I'd call us 'friends', per say," Shinra hummed. "But I do hope everything is alright with his health..." He suddenly chuckled. "I _did _introduce you two, didn't I! Ah, man! What a debacle!"

"Yeah, what happened back then?" Shizuo wondered. He'd been trying to recall exactly how they started fighting for the very first time, but was unable to remember.

"Eh, you know. You were being you and Izaya was being Izaya. But what I thought was really funny was just how badly he wanted to meet you! You should have seen his face when you were beating up those poor kids! I think it was the only time I ever saw him really smile in the entire time I've known him!"

Shizuo felt his cheeks heat up, but didn't know why. "R-really? That's fucking weird!" he grumbled.

"I know! If I didn't know any better, I'd say he had a thing for you! And then you walked up and said something...uh...wait, what was it...? Oh yeah! About how there was something wrong with him and that you didn't like him! Man! I gotta tell you, it was pretty perfect! His face was pretty priceless!"

Shinra started cracking up, again, and Shizuo felt something sinking in his stomach. "I said that?" Shizuo remembered staring at the two of them from a distance. He remembered Izaya studying him with his intense, light brown orbs, smiling, and how that'd made him feel kind of embarrassed. Looking at the shorter male in the bright red shirt and black jacket, leaning lazily against his elbow had given Shizuo the oddest feeling, one he could not quite identify. "And he didn't say anything first?"

"Er, no, not really," Shinra thought about it. "He was just being his usual, smirky self. I really don't think he wanted to be your enemy, but you trying to pound him into oblivion pretty much wrecked that, I guess." Shizuo's mouth clamped shut in a thin line, and he looked away, feeling terribly guilty. He had always blamed Izaya for starting their seemingly endless feud, but maybe that had been wrong of him. He knew he could be an asshole a lot of the time, and he knew that he had trouble expressing his feelings, even to people he liked. And then, he'd tried to hit the smaller, dark haired man so hard, he'd broke the bench he'd been sitting on. What a first impression! Shizuo lifted his other hand and gripped his shirt over his scar, trying desperately to remember what he could possibly have been thinking that day. Deep within, he knew the answer, but his mind kept discounting it as absurd, and tossing it aside. He hissed as Shinra finally went for the last piece of glass. The doctor quickly held a cloth tightly over the now heavily bleeding arm. "There we go! Almost finished! Just got to get a bandage on you!" He began humming as he washed the arm with disinfectant and began wrapping medical tape around the gauze pressed to the wound. Shizuo kept his head turned to the side, a bitter expression on his face. Shinra stopped humming as he snipped the bandage, short. "Shizuo, if you're so worried about Izaya, you should just go check on him. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. Like I said, I think he's always kind of liked you-"

"ARGH! Would you stop saying that?" Shizuo groaned, his face lighting up red. "It's fucking embarrassing! We're both guys, for god's sake!"

Shinra shrugged, and began gathering up his medical supplies. "I didn't say you had to go make out with him. But being his friend, especially since it sounds like he's going through a tough time, might not be so bad, huh?"

Shizuo ground his teeth at him again, before exhaling. "Yeah, I guess..., but the moment he starts acting like a fucking flea again, I'm out of there!" he vowed. Shinra chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Listening to you, it's almost like you miss that, Shizuo!" he laughed. Celty's shoulders began shaking in silent laughter, as she quickly typed something on her phone and held it out to Shizuo.

_"I think it's really sweet!"_

"Ah, come on, Celty-san! Not you, too!" he wailed, taking his soiled shirt from the couch and slipping it back on as he headed for the door.

"Good luck~!" Shinra waived cheerfully at him.

"Whatever!" Shizuo yelled over his shoulder, slamming the door shut behind him with a bang. He walked toward Shinjuku, not bothering to stop by his apartment and change. After all, it wasn't like he was going out on a date, or anything. He was just going to see the flea. The flea didn't care if his shirt sleeve was torn and bloody. Hell, he'd probably get a good laugh out of it! Shizuo tried to ignore how thinking about Izaya's laugh made his stomach alight with the feeling of butterflies. He took out a cigarette and chewed on it a while before lighting it. Feeling like a teenage girl with a crush was starting to piss him off. But that's what it was, right? He rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. It was pointless to lie about it to himself, at this point.

'Well, so what?' he mused. It wasn't like he had to tell anyone about it, least of all, Izaya. After all, the thought that there could ever be anything more than something akin to a weird kind of violent friendship was completely ludicrous. Shizuo smiled sadly, and his feet began to drag towards the direction of Izaya's apartment. That answer wasn't exactly good, either. 'Damn... If he hadn't shown up looking all hurt and helpless... Well, as helpless as Izaya can look, I guess, I probably wouldn't be feeling this way. It's probably just pity...' However, pity didn't seem like a good enough reason to start crushing on his worst enemy. He shook his head. He'd never been good with emotions. It wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine that he might read feeling attracted to someone as a threat of some kind. His mind drifted back to the lithe figure in the school yard that day, with a devilish smirk and fiery eyes flashing in a silent challenge. 'I'm so stupid...' Could he really have been misreading Izaya all of these years? Could he really have misread himself so badly? 'Tch...of course I could have,' he concluded. But that didn't mean it was too late to set things right between them, did it? Shizuo shook his head. 'What the fuck am I thinking? I'm going to stop by, make sure he's not dead, and leave. That's it. Why am I making such a big deal out of this?'

He took the elevator to the Izaya's floor. As the doors opened, a small, blonde kid crashed into him. Shizuo caught the back of his hoody and lifted him away with an annoyed expression.

"Whoa! Sorry about that, Heiwajima-san!" a friendly voice emanated from the bright, smiling face. "Didn't expect to run into someone like you, here!"

Shizuo stared at his face for a moment, and dropped his hood. "I know you. You're that kid that's always hanging out with the sissy guy and that girl with...with..."

"Really big knockers?" Kida shouted, gleefully.

"I was gonna say GLASSES!" Shizuo barked. "Kids these days! Shit!"

"Well, I can imagine why you might be here, so I'll just be on my way now!" Kida grinned and clutched two folders tightly to his chest as the doors closed. Shizuo blinked. Something about that kid reminded him of someone. That was just like the flea. Wrapping little kids up in his dirty work. He was gonna deck him one. With a new resolution, Shizuo knocked firmly on the door. He heard heels clack against the floor until they reached the door.

"What do you want?" a deathly serious and slightly annoyed voice reached his ears through the door. "Are you hear to trash the place? God! Even when he's not around, he's still making my life hell!"

"N-no!" Shizuo shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't come to fight. Someone wanted me to check up on the flea. Make sure he's not dead and all."

Namie cracked open the door and glared at him with one eye. She looked him up and down, and her frown deepened. "Well, Orihara's not here."

"Where is he?"

"Where do you think?" she sighed, already exasperated. Shizuo grit his teeth at her attitude, but tried to remain calm.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking!" he growled back, his voice growing louder.

"Well, he's right where you left him!" she huffed, slamming the door shut in his face. "Better hurry! Visiting hours end, soon!" her voice was muffled through the door as it receded into the room. Shizuo blinked at the closed door for a moment, before he took off running. He didn't bother waiting for the elevator, and burst through the push door that led to the stairwell. After he left, Namie opened the door and stared after him, curiously. A small smile tugged the corner of her mouth upwards, and she shut her eyes, slowly closing the door.

Shizuo checked his watch. 18:47... Visiting hours would be over at 20:00. He picked up his speed and made it to the hospital within twenty minutes. Huffing, he walked through the sliding doors into the sterile environment, and was about to go to the elevators when the gift shop window caught his eye.

* * *

><p>A nurse, who didn't hate his guts already, peaked her head inside the dozing informant's room. "What is it?" he asked tiredly, his eyes only half open. The T.V. was set to a home shopping channel, and the woman on the screen enthusiastically showed random pieces of cheap jewelry to the cameras. However, Izaya gripped the remote loosely in his hand, and he had muted it long ago.<p>

"Orihara-san, you have a visitor."

"Tell Yagiri-san to just leave me alone, please," he sighed. "I told her not to come back, anymore."

"It's not Yagiri-san!" the nurse smiled, brightly. "Someone named Heiwajima-san is here to see you."

Izaya's eyes popped open, and much to the nurse's amusement, he looked momentarily panicked. "Shizu-chan is here to see me?" he wondered out loud.

"Yes! He's right outside in the hall! Shall I show him in?"

Izaya glared at her, not quite liking the amount of excitement in her voice. He shrugged. "Sure, why not. I'm bored anyway, today~"

She nodded, still beaming at him in a most annoying way, and raced out the door. As soon as she was gone, Izaya sat up and immediately tried to smooth down his bedraggled hair, silently thanking his lucky stars that earlier, he'd decided to drag his weary body out of bed for a shower. Marginally satisfied, he flopped back down on his pillow, his eyes darting nervously about the room. Shizu-chan was here...again. He hadn't expected that. What would he say? Izaya squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mottled brain to think. He'd been sick and in bed on heavy medication for so long, he was sure it was affecting his capacity to process thought. It irked him, but there was no helping it. He sighed, and folded his hands over his stomach. No, that didn't look right... He let his arms fall back along his side. Ugh, that didn't look right, either. As Izaya was busy fighting with the correct placement of his arms, Shizuo walked through the door.

"What the hell are you doing, flea?" he asked, sticking his free hand in his pocket, his other hidden behind his back, and regarding him with a suspicious expression.

"Eh heh..." Izaya let his arms fall back down on the bed. "Shizu-chan! How good to see you! I was just getting some exercise, you see."

"Looked like you were having a seizure to me..."

"Well, it's a very advanced therapy," Izaya muttered as he looked away, irritated that he'd been caught being ridiculous. "No doubt you haven't heard about it."

"Tch! Whatever!" Shizuo grinned. Something soft and small hit Izaya's stomach, and he startled, quickly looking down.

"What's this?" he asked, picking up the small, stuffed bear and looking at it, curiously.

"It's a gift. Thought you'd get a little lonely in here. Now you have someone to keep you company."

A thousand and one insults went through Izaya's mind, but he bit his tongue and smiled, albeit a little crookedly. "How...sweet...," he managed, though it seemed a little painful for him. He sat up slowly and set the bear upright on his lap, petting it's very soft, synthetic fur. Shizuo grabbed the chair out of the corner and moved it to the side of the bed, spinning it around so that he could sit with his forearms on the back rest. He let his chin rest on his folded arms.

"So, you're still in here, huh?"

"Ah, you know? I was out the day right after you left, last time, and I, literally, JUST got back," Izaya laughed. "What a coincidence!" Shizuo just stared at him. Izaya's laughter faded.

"You don't have to lie, you know? Kinda makes me worry."

"Why would you be worried about me, Shizu-chan?" Izaya smiled sadly, glancing down at his gift. He moved the bear's arms about, as if looking for a distraction.

"Cause... Just am. I guess."

"Hmmm," Izaya hummed, choosing not to pursue the vague statement. "What happened to your arm?"

"Got in a bar fight with a debtor."

"Ah... Did they break a beer bottle on you?"

"Well, they were aiming for Tom-san's head, but I got between them in time."

Izaya smiled a little evilly, his face lighting up. "What did you do then?" he pressed.

"I grabbed him by his belt and shirt collar and flung him head first into the flat screen T.V. over the bar."

Izaya threw back his head and laughed. Shizuo was a bit surprised at the outburst, but eventually he smiled as well. "That sounds very exciting! I wish I could have been there to see it!"

"You'll see it next time," Shizuo assured him. That same deflated look passed over the informant's face, and he began petting the bear, again. "So, what are you really in here for? I know it's not a chest cold. Shinra told me it wasn't."

"I suppose you told him everything that happened, hm?" Izaya's voice was almost a whisper. Shizuo tilted his head.

"Yeah...you know, you could have just gone to him if you were sick. What gives?"

"Shinra can't help me with this... Hey, Shizu-chan! Let's play a game!"

"W-what?" Shizuo tried to wrap his head around the sudden conversation shift. "Okay, sure. What do you want to play?"

"Let's play, I never!"

Shizuo blanched a bit. "Uuuh...maybe we should play something else..."

"Nonsense! It'll be fun! I've never really gotten to talk to you, before! What better way to get to know someone?"

"Yeah, but you're not going to play fair!" Shizuo accused, his voice rising in panic. "You'll just lie, and I'll wind up looking like an idiot! I know what you're plotting, flea!"

"I would NEVER!" Izaya gasped, but Shizuo could see the distinctly mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come, come, the sick man in the room makes the rules, neh?"

Shizuo sighed, collapsing back into his chair. He hadn't even noticed that he had half stood up in his agitation. "Isn't this usually a drinking game? How are we going to play without any alcohol?"

Izaya quickly snatched a note pad and two pens from the small chest of drawers next to his bed. "We'll do it like this," he explained, handing a small pad and a pen to Shizuo. "Every time I say something I've never done that you have, you'll make a mark on the pad. The first person to get ten marks, loses. Fair enough?"

Shizuo swallowed, thickly. "I suppose... Okay!" He took a deep breath and sat up straight, as if resigned to his fate. "You go first! Give me your best shot!"

Izaya grinned wickedly at him. "Alright then! I've never...gone to jail!"

"Hey, that's low!" Shizuo grumbled, as he put a mark on his note pad. "Okay, my turn! I've never...ummm...I've never had a personal computer."

Izaya blinked at him, and looked down, putting a little mark on his pad. "That wasn't very shady at all, Shizu-chan... In fact, if you are ever out drinking and playing this game, I suggest you keep that one to yourself."

"Whatever! You're the one who wanted to play this stupid game! Your turn, flea!"

"I've never been naked on a beach."

"Really?" Shizuo whistled, as he made another little mark on his note pad. "That's kind of sad... Why not?"

"Not interested."

"I love the beach! Especially when there are no people around! It's so relaxing."

"That's precisely why I wouldn't be interested," Izaya said, raising his eyebrows a little at Shizuo. He wouldn't have taken him for a skinny-dipper. "Now go on, your turn."

"Oh, yeah! Uh...Oh, I got a good one! I never slept with a hooker!" Izaya sighed loudly, as he dramatically put a large mark on his paper. Shizuo's jaw dropped. "Oh, no way! Really?"

"Indeed. Aren't you proud of me? I'm being honest!"

"But, I mean, why? I thought you could sleep with anyone you wanted!"

"I'm a busy man, Shizu-chan. Now it's my turn. I never...had sex with a girl in a bathroom."

"Ah, man!" Shizuo groaned, as he put another mark down, his face turning bright red. Izaya lit up with amusement. "It wasn't even good! I mean, I was drunk as fuck! Okay, my turn! I never made out with a dude!"

Izaya's face became very pale. Shizuo watched him carefully, his own wicked smirk spreading across his face. His hand made no move to make a mark, and his eyes flickered back to Shizuo's, as if studying him, carefully. "I never fell in love with anyone," he said, pointedly. It was Shizuo's turn to go white as a sheet, before a furious blush made his ears burn.

"I think you might be lying," he muttered. "At least, I hope that's not true." Both of them became silent for a moment, completely forgetting about the note pads in their hands. Izaya was the first to break the silence with a loud yawn and a stretch.

"You're right. That was a stupid game. Let's do something else, neh?"

"It's not, right?"

"Hm?"

Shizuo stared at his shoes one the floor. "It's not true that you've never loved someone, is it?" Izaya let out a quiet sigh.

"I did fall in love, once. But it was a mistake," he smiled. "I can't love anyone. I know that, now." His words made Shizuo's heart sink, and the blonde man gripped the back of the chair, grimacing as if in pain. Izaya regarded him, curiously. "What's on your mind, Shizu-chan? It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that I find romantic love in general, distasteful."

"I suppose not..."

"So what's wrong, then, neh?" he asked. "You look like your puppy just died."

"I don't have a puppy..."

"It's just an expression, Shizu-chan," Izaya smiled, as he lay back down into his pillows.

"...Oh..." _Here goes nothing..._ "Hey, Izaya?"

"Hmm?"

"Remember when we first met?"

"Uh-huh," Izaya yawned, his eyes suddenly feeling a bit heavy.

"I was beating some assholes up, and you were sitting next to Shinra, on the park bench..."

"Yeah?"

"I...That is, you... I feel like..."

"Come on, now, Shizu-chan!" Izaya laughed at the blonde's nervousness. "Just spit it out."

"...I thought you were really...something. And I didn't like how it made me feel..." Izaya's eyes widened, and he slowly sat up on his elbows. Shizuo was still staring at the floor and didn't notice. "I feel like, I probably gave you the wrong idea...And then I just lost my temper. I said something really stupid, and then I tried to hit you. I deserved the scar you gave me. I still act like an idiot a lot of the time, but I'm trying to be better about it. And...I think I kind of like you...in a way... So, I guess what I'm asking, is..." his honey-brown eyes slowly lifted to stare into Izaya's. "Do you think we could start over?"

Izaya stared at him for a long time, before he slowly let himself fall back down. "You're really quite cruel, you know that, Shizu-chan?" he chuckled, a bitter note in his voice.

"You don't have to decide right now!" Shizuo quickly added. "But, I dunno...maybe I could stop by again, tomorrow?" Izaya's eyes flickered over to him, a forlorn smile that looked more like a frown on his face.

"I would just be wasting your time."

"I don't feel that way," Shizuo said, stubbornly. "I know maybe you don't feel that way about me, and I don't blame you, but at least give me the chance to change your mind!"

Izaya looked at him as if he'd just been stabbed through the heart, and he couldn't understand it. The informant was completely grief-stricken, and with great effort, he stifled the emotions threatening to overwhelm him, and smiled, again. "You should probably go, now, otherwise the nurses will fuss," he laughed. "And then I'll have to hear about it the rest of the night."

Shizuo stood up and walked to the side of the bed. He slowly reached down, and took Izaya's hand in both of his. The informant's face blushed bright red, and his lips parted slightly in surprise as he looked up at the blonde figure that towered above his now diminished form. "I'll be back," he promised, giving his cold, thin fingers a squeeze. Izaya swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to smile.

"Alright, then," he said, weakly. "Bye, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo nodded, and gently placed his hand back on the bed. He gave Izaya a silly grin and a wave, before walking out the door. Izaya watched the elated man leave, and something deep inside of him felt as if it were breaking. He slowly curled up under the blankets, hugging the bear tightly to his chest, and he could not stop the tears from flowing. One of the nurses he'd been particularly cruel too walked in to check his readings and I.V. bags. She startled when she heard his sobbing, and looked down at him, curiously. "Orihara-san," she whispered, leaning over. "Are you in pain?" He shook his head and only cried harder. As she turned to leave with a nod, his thin hand desperately reached out and grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out between his tears. The woman froze, staring at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry about what I said to you! I'm a terrible person!" She gazed down at him, coolly, for a moment, before her eyes softened.

"You were terrible, but I accept your apology."

"Th-thank you..." Izaya inhaled a shaky breath, letting her arm go. She smiled, comfortingly, and, sitting down on the edge of the bed, the nurse began to softly pet his head. Izaya stopped his crying, and slowly closed his eyes, as the motherly motions lulled him to sleep.

"Poor boy," she whispered to the now slumbering patient. "You didn't deserve this." She then left to finish her rounds, leaving Izaya fast asleep, clutching the bear as if the small remainder of his life depended on it.

* * *

><p>Another week passed, but unlike the previous ones, Izaya found himself not completely dreading every day. He blamed it on the morphine, but Shizuo was beginning to be the small flicker of light in an otherwise, dreary existence. He looked forward to his company so much, it was enough to overcome the slight embarrassment of sometimes having to throw up in a bowl, or hastily retreat to the bathroom. At first, these events severely annerved Shizuo, and when Izaya even started coughing, he was already lunging for the emergency button on the wall. However, little by little, the blonde man realized that Izaya wasn't about to die every single time one of his symptoms flared up, and he was able to relax a bit more. He stopped by every afternoon after work, and he brought Izaya books and newspapers to read. In the beginning, the informant wasn't able to look at the tiny print without getting a migraine, and so Shizuo would just read aloud to him. This was torturous in it's own right, as Izaya had to cut in every other minute and peer at the page when the blonde man came across a character he didn't recognize. He would always leave the reading materials behind, and Izaya found that little by little, he was able to read them, again. Shizuo also brought his Chess-Go-Shogun set, and Izaya tried very hard not to give him too much of a tongue lashing for messing up his diabolical scheming board. It amused him for a couple of days to watch the brute struggle to concentrate, having just learned the rules to the three games. Chess seemed to be the easiest one to pick up on, as it was the most aggressive, so the blonde man tended to favor that one, and of course Izaya was only too delighted to completely obliterate his rookie opponent. He was sure to bring a new distraction every day, and to one's relief and one's disappointment, the subject of Izaya's illness and Shizuo's semi-confession never came up.<p>

Even so, every night Shizuo left him alone once again to the rhythmic humming of the machines, Izaya couldn't help be feel the dread of impending doom. It couldn't last, this terribly charming, funny little friendship they currently shared. His health wasn't getting better, and he was loathe to let things go on as they had. Izaya was not one to shy away from hardship after all. It really would be best to cut this foolish nonsense short, before it became too much of an ordeal. Even so, every day Shizuo's happy and warm smile lit the room, Izaya found it harder to stick to his resolve.

One Friday morning, Shizuo stopped by earlier than usual, and announced his arrival by pushing a wheel chair into the room. Izaya put down the novel he was reading, and quirked an eyebrow. Shizuo walked in after it, smiling triumphantly.

"What's that for?" Izaya asked, flatly. "It can't be that you think you're going to wheel me around in that. That would be incredibly stupid, even for you."

"That's exactly what I think, flea!" Shizuo growled, immediately becoming defensive. "Doctor said you can't walk outside, that you gotta use a wheel chair, so stop being a little bitch and get in! Oh yeah...," he reached into his back pocket and removed a plastic package. "They also said you gotta wear this so you don't pick up any germs or let any of your nasty, flea germs out." He unceremoniously tossed the package on the bed, and Izaya merely glanced at the mask, before raising his book back to the level of his eyes, completely ignoring him. "Dammit, Izaya! Come on! At least do it for me! I'm tired of sitting in this damn room!"

"All the more reason why I shouldn't do it," Izaya hummed, his eyes holding a mischievous sparkle as they peered at him from over the rim of his book. "I won't be paraded around like some decrepit spectacle. When I leave here, I'll walk, thank you very much. Here," he reached to his side and tossed his stuff bear onto the empty chair seat, "Take Tsuki-chan. He looks like he'd very much like to go outside."

"You are such an asshole!" Shizuo grit his teeth, squeezing the handle bars of the chair so tightly, Izaya could hear them beginning to creak. This brought him immense joy, of course. "Now come on!" He jostled the chair from side to side for emphasis. Izaya rolled his eyes.

"Shizu-chan, you're so inconsiderate. Look at what I'm wearing!" Shizuo stopped his angry display, and looked. He'd never really paid much attention to the polka dotted hospital gown, complete with awful, teal pants that Izaya wore day after day. He suddenly felt like snorting, mockingly, but he held his face firm.

"So? That's what every patient here is wearing!"

"It's ridiculous looking! I won't be caught dead in it, outside!"

"You're such a little girl!" Shizuo huffed. "Who gives a shit what you're wearing? You could go naked, for all I care! I want to go outside, and I want you to go with me, so GET THE FUCK UP, FLEA!"

"Oh, I didn't realize nudity was an option," Izaya laid down his book, his voice suddenly becoming very low and sultry. Shizuo immediately began to turn red and started sputtering.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?" he demanded, as Izaya started untying the string that held his gown wrapped around his torso. Izaya looked at him as if completely surprised.

"I'm taking my clothes off, of course!"

"WHAT! You can't do that!" Shizuo waved his arms frantically, wanting to grab Izaya's hands to stop him and feeling that if he did, something really bad would happen.

"Why not? You think I'm ugly?" Izaya pouted and sighed, rolling over. "Of course you would. I'm pretty pathetic looking right now, aren't I?" Shizuo blinked at him.

"Well, you are kind of skinny and all...Wait! Is this one of your silly mind games? Of course I don't think you're ugly!" Izaya smirked, and popped back up to continue his previous activity.

"So, if you don't think I'm ugly, than you shouldn't mind seeing me naked~"

"What? That makes no sense at all, and you know it!" Shizuo groaned, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. Izaya was just about to slip the gown off of his shoulders when Shizuo threw up his hands. "Okay! Fine! You win! We stay!"

Izaya smirked again, quickly tying the fabric across his body, again. "That's good to hear, Shizu-chan! Especially since I'm leaving, tomorrow, anyway~"

Shizuo wrenched the wheel chair from the floor in anger, holding it over his head as if he were going to throw it directly at his head. Izaya's eyes widened with anticipation, as a maniacal grin spread across his face. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place!" Shizuo heaved. However, once the informant's words sunk in, he suddenly became very quiet, slowly lowering the chair back to the floor. "Is...that okay? I mean, you still seem like you're pretty sick and all... I don't know if you're ready to be out of the hospital."

"Well, Dr. Shizu-chan," Izaya sighed, "Thank you for your prognosis, but I think I've been here long enough."

"Okay then... Awesome! How about I take you home? After all, they'll probably want someone to pick you up, right?"

Izaya looked at him in a bit of amazement, never failing to marvel at his candidness. "I'll have my secretary fetch me. Don't trouble yourself," he said, evenly, choosing to ignore the momentarily hurt expression that crossed Shizuo's face, and not willing to admit to himself how much it pained him.

"Still, that's really good! That you're finally getting out of here, I mean!" Shizuo favored him with another of his large, goofy grins. "I'm not going to lie, I was really starting to worry, you know?"

Izaya smiled, but nothing else in his expression was happy. "Why should you worry about me?" he shrugged, closing his eyes. "You know I can't stay away from my beloved humans for too long. I have a lot of work to catch up on, after all." He lied with such ease, his voice betraying nothing.

Shizuo snorted. "Ready to get back to your old tricks, huh?"

"Perhaps...And perhaps it's time to tell you thanks for the memories, but I really don't want to see you anymore, Shizu-chan." He was looking down at his book when he said it, so he couldn't see the puzzled and wounded look on the blonde's face. Shizuo said nothing, so Izaya gripped his book a little more tightly, bringing it to the tip of his nose. "I mean, I appreciate that you took pity on me, and I found your company entertaining a good bit of the time, but there's no place for that sort of thing in the real world, don't you agree? What would people say?"

Shizuo looked away, clenching his fists. "I suppose you're right..." he mumbled, and Izaya felt a small waive of relief and disappointment at the same time. "But, hey! I know! We'll keep it a secret! I won't tell anyone, and we can hang out at your place or my place and you can kick my ass at Chess! How's that?"

Izaya shook his head. "I think you need to think about it a little more. I'm in a business where people often track my movements, whether I want them to or not, and you are infamous. We're both too high profile in our own way. It just won't work. Ah, but don't look like that! Take heart! I'll be sure to let you chuck a vending machine or two in my general direction every now and then!"

"Won't be the same..." Shizuo grumbled, childishly. The informant favored him with an indulgent smile.

"My, my. Just how lonely are you that you want to be with a sick man that hates your guts and the very air you breathe?" he smirked. "What kind of weirdo does that make you, neh?"

Shizuo tapped the floor with his shoe, and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. "It's not weird to want to be with someone you like..."

Izaya snapped the book shut and glared at him. "Don't say that," he said, flatly.

"What? It's true! Izaya, I haven't said anything since that night, but-"

"Stop!" The sharpness of his tone cut through the room like a knife, leaving Shizuo stunned speechless. Izaya looked away, gritting his teeth and clutching the bed sheets. He drew a deep breath, and opened his eyes with a smile. "Sorry, Shizu-chan, but I felt like you were about to embarrass yourself." Shizuo frowned at him, and said nothing. "I'm flattered," he continued on, "But really! What do you expect? What do you think could possibly come out of a relationship with me?" Shizuo still wouldn't answer, but he turned his head to the side, biting his lip. "Oh, the silent treatment? Well, while I have your attention, I'll go ahead and say this now. Whatever silly, grandiose ideas of _'love'_ you have swirling around in that thick skull of yours, you can just go ahead and forget about them. I don't love you."

Shizuo flinched as if he'd been struck. "It doesn't make sense..." he mumbled, turning away.

"Hm?"

"If you didn't want to see me...Why did you look so happy every time I came?"

Izaya sighed. "I did want to see you. I was bored."

"You don't think you'll ever get bored at home, too?"

The hesitant hopefulness in his voice made Izaya's chest constrict, but he had to be firm. "Not in the least," he smirked. "If anything, you'll just be in my way."

Shizuo growled and actually did throw the wheel chair, this time. It landed to the left of Izaya, imbedding itself into the drywall. Immediately, a nurse ran into the room, clutching her chest, fearfully.

"What on earth is going on in here?" she asked, her voice high from her frazzled nerves. Shizuo shrugged, angrily.

"I was just leaving!"


	4. Final

"Oh, good god, Shizuo! Put the man down!" Tom face palmed with one hand as he threw the other on Shizuo's shoulder to try and calm him. "We didn't even ask him for the money yet!"

"God! I don't want to die! Please!" the terrified man screamed and struggled as Shizuo held him aloft over his head. Shizuo was already seething in anger so early in the morning, his chest heaving.

"Well you weren't gonna, were you?" he accused, tilting his head back to more adequately shout at the person.

"Just drop him!" Tom raised his voice slightly in annoyance. Shizuo stopped his huffing and puffing and unceremoniously dropped the man, who let out a surprised yelp. He quickly scrambled to his feet and took all of the cash out of his wallet, handing it to Tom with a shaking hand. Tom accepted the money with a nod, and the man took off running as fast as his legs would carry him. The bodyguard shoved his hands in his pockets and stared angrily at his shoes. "What is with you, today?" Tom sighed, recollecting himself and pocketing the payment. Shizuo shrugged, and walked out of the small pool hall they were in back onto the street. He was walking so fast, Tom had to practically jog to keep up. He furrowed his eyebrows at his disgruntled employee. "Shizuo, come on, slow down," he panted after they had traveled a few blocks. Shizuo ignored him. If anything, he only walked faster.

"I can't!" He finally growled. "I need to do something! Anything! Come on, tell me where the next stop is, already!"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tom didn't try to hide his uneasiness. "You look like you're ready to kill someone."

"There's only one person I want to kill!" Shizuo barked, hunching his shoulders together, angrily. Tom blinked at him, before a knowing smile spread across his face. He shook his head.

"Shizuo, I feel like as your employer, it is my duty to warn you not to bring personal problems into the workplace."

"We don't HAVE a 'workplace', Tom-san!"

"Well then, on the clock. Trust me, it's never as serious as you think it is."

Shizuo stopped walking, and regarded him with a troubled expression. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that you're all hopped up on hormones, and the situation probably isn't as dire as you're thinking. Just forget about it for now, and when you get off of work, you can go straighten out whatever romantic entanglement you've gotten yourself into."

"Who said anything about romantic entanglements?" Shizuo demanded, practically ripping his pack of cigarrettes apart to get one stick out. Tom rolled his eyes.

"Whatever it is, you're riding the emotional roller coaster, and you need to just settle down."

Shizuo took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed, blowing out the smoke. "I'm sorry, Tom-san. I'll be better," he spoke apologetically. Tom patted him on the shoulder and put his own hands in his pockets as they strolled at a slower pace. After an introspective moment of silence had passed, Tom cleared his throat. Shizuo's eyebrows perked up at the sound, and he glanced over.

"Shizuo, are you upset because Izaya's been missing? I know you were seeing him every evening up until he got discharged from the hospital."

A warm blush colored Shizuo's face, and he looked the other way. "Don't make me laugh!" he chuckled, harshly. "I hate that guy! He's been a thorn in my side since the day I met him! I should have just let him drop dead when I had the chance!"

"I wonder if that's how you really feel," Tom reasoned. "Or if it's just that you're worried. Was Izaya really that sick?"

"Yeah, he was really sick...I can't imagine why they even let him out of the hospital when he was still like that..." Shizuo's voice became distant, as he became lost in thought.

"Have you considered that, sometimes, they let people go home when there's nothing else they can do for them?" Tom said gently, letting his hand rest on Shizuo's shoulder. He could feel the ripple of shock that traveled through the blonde man at his words, and Shizuo froze in his steps. Tom instantly regretted saying it. "But hey, it was just a thought. I mean, I'm sure you'd know if that was the case."

Shizuo stared straight ahead, his brown eyes growing large. "Is that why he just disappeared, again?" Shizuo asked, his voice completely hollow. The cigarette between his lips slipped and fell to the ground, unnoticed. He took a hesitant step forward, as if in a daze.

"Shizuo?"

Shizuo didn't answer. His steps became more and more rapid, until he broke out into a run. Tom's voice calling after him became smaller and smaller with the distance he was already putting between them. He frantically tore through the streets of Ikebukuro, people scrambling to clear a path. Instead of slowing down for street crossings and crowds, Shizuo only ran faster, forging a straight and narrow path to his destination. Sweat began to run down his face and he shook the salty water out of his eyes, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't keep his vision from blurring. He ran until he was in Shinjuku and in front of Izaya's home, breathing heavily in the hallway. He knew that the informant had forbade him to see him again after their last meeting, but he couldn't help it. He reached his quivering hand up to knock on the large door, and gave a few harsh wraps on the wood.

He had to know... It was impossible, but he had to be sure...

Izaya's secretary practically flung open the door. Shizuo stumbled back in surprise, as she thrust her head out of the doorway, her large, dark eyes darting around before settling on him. She heaved a sigh of relief, and swept her disheveled hair back over her shoulder. "Oh god..." she breathed, standing up straight and shaking off her panicked look. "I thought you were bringing back his body or something!"

Shizuo recovered himself, and wasted no time in getting straight to the point. "Where's Izaya?"

"I don't know!" Namie's voice was irate. "He's gone!"

"What do you mean, gone! Aren't you supposed to be taking care of him?"

"What do I look like? A nurse maid? You know how he is! He just left in the middle of the night!" She folded her arms, crossly, the large bags under her eyes prominent. "How he did it in his condition, I have no idea! I swear, that man is an alien! I looked everywhere I could think of! He's just vanished!" Shizuo growled, and stalked off down the hallway. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

"It's no use!" she called. "If he doesn't want to be found, you won't find him."

"We'll see about that," Shizuo muttered, as he stepped into the elevator. His determination was so fierce, he didn't even consider that Izaya could be clear across the ocean by this time. Something inside of him told him that Izaya probably didn't go far, and that same something told him that Izaya needed him. However, hours of running aimlessly through the city streets were definitely testing his resolve. It had begun to grow dark by the time he wandered the streets of Ikebukuro again. Earlier in the day, he had enlisted Celty's aid in searching for the informant, but she'd had no luck either. Shizuo sighed as he saw the message on his phone. He had slowed to a leisurely jog, and eventually a walk. He'd begun to wander through the more industrial part of town, and consequently, more deserted and dangerous part of town, but it would be a sorry day for any thug who thought he could take on Shizuo Heiwajima, so he didn't worry too much. He smoked a cigarette now that his pace had slowed, and gazed up at the night skies, the stars obscured by the city lights. The moon was large and full, casting a glow stronger than all of the artificial ones across the rooftops of the tall buildings. For some reason, the moonlight reminded him of the object of his search. Izaya was cruel and cold, but strangely beautiful and mysterious all the same. Like the moon beams rippling over the concrete and Shizuo's face, his image danced in his mind, unrelenting, and he couldn't help but feel that underneath the cold exterior, something deeper had reflected back at him when Izaya smiled. In his face, he swore that he'd seen a distant warmth, something beginning to yield, but it was impossible to tell whether or not it was just Shizuo's wishful thinking projected onto him.

These thoughts consumed him, so much so, that he almost failed to recognize the thin framed person who stood atop the roof of an abandoned commercial building, facing an alley way. Shizuo froze at the image of a fur trimmed jacket and fine, black hair fluttering in the night breeze. The man stood with his back to the ledge, gazing up at the moon from the other side of the safety railing. For a moment, all Shizuo could do was stare in simple amazement at how beautiful and serene Izaya's face became, as the pale beams of light danced across it. Without any warning, Izaya took a step back until his shoes balanced precariously on the very edge. Never taking his eyes off of the sky, he began to lean back, and it was in that moment that Shizuo's heart began hammering out of his chest, as it dawned upon him what the informant's intentions were.

"IZAYA!"

His face turned as he fell, and he stared at Shizuo with surprise that quickly melted away into acceptance, as he shut his eyes and plummeted toward the ground. Shizuo didn't think. He sprinted faster than he ever had in his life and dove, catching Izaya right before he hit the ground and letting his own, stronger body take the impact, instead. He clung to the smaller man, tightly, and for a moment, they both lay on the concrete, breathing as if they were struggling for air. Izaya recovered quickly, and shoved away from his savior, standing up quickly.

"Fuck!" he would have screamed it, if his lungs were not already giving out. He began coughing and laughing, hysterically, until blood began to paint the fist he held to his mouth. Shizuo lept to his feet and put a hand on Izaya's arm, which was quickly yanked away.

"What were you trying to do?" Shizuo demanded, angrily.

"What did it _look _like?" Izaya snarled back. He attempted to walk away, but Shizuo took hold of him again. "Don't fucking touch me!" he practically shrieked at him, which induced another bout of coughing. Shizuo grimaced as more flecks of red flew from the informant's mouth, staining his pale chin, but he couldn't quell the rage and desperation rising within.

"Why? Why would you do that?" he yelled, spinning a still choking Izaya around to face him. "How could you do that?"

_How could you do that to me?_

Izaya narrowed his eyes, inhaling shakily. "Oh god...how could anyone...be so stupid?" he wheezed between breaths. "Just go...away!" He tried to turn to leave again, but Shizuo reached out and brought him close to his chest, clutching him tightly. Izaya blinked for a moment at the sudden contact, before struggling feebly to get away. "Let me go!" he growled into the fabric of Shizuo's vest.

"No!"

"Let me go!" the panic began to rise in his voice. "Let me go! LET ME GO! Shizuo! Please...please..." his voice became a muffled cry, as his knees gave out, and they both sank slowly to the cold pavement. Shizuo only hugged him more tightly.

"Izaya...I love you."

"Don't say that!" he sobbed, staining the fabric of Shizuo's clothes with blood and tears. "Don't say that to me, now!"

"But why?" Izaya didn't answer, and only continued to shake violently, as the sorrow poured out of him. Shizuo continued to hold him, his own throat constricting with the tortured feelings coursing through him. "Izaya...if you're scared of what people might think, we could leave here! We could go to another country! I'm sure you could be an informant anywhere! And I could-" Izaya gave a shuddering sigh.

"I'm dying..." Shizuo's body froze solid as his blood ran cold. Izaya nuzzled his head deeper into Shizuo's chest and continued to cry. Shizuo stared over his jet black hair, thick with sweat from their exertions, at the blood stains which littered the pavement under them. The evidence of all the previous people who had lept to their death in the very spot they now knelt. "I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want anyone to know! I didn't want..._this_!" he grieved, digging his thin fingers into Shizuo's shoulders, tightly. Shizuo felt as if all of the life had suddenly left him, and he could scarcely breathe. "Do you think..." Izaya sniffed loudly, and coughed. "Do you think if maybe...we'd met before..." he clenched his eyes and bit back a sob threatening to escape his lips. "Do you think things might have been different? Do you, Shizuo?" Shizuo exhaled sharply, and brought his hand to the back of Izaya's head, crushing it against him, tears beginning to gather and fall down his own face.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I don't know anything, Izaya, except that I love you right now."

Izaya pulled his head away from his chest and gazed up into Shizuo's grief-stricken eyes. Shizuo wiped the tears from his cheeks and the blood from around his mouth with a smile that held back the utter torment he felt, and he gently leaned forward, placing his lips on his. Izaya furrowed his eyebrows, and closed his eyes, another tear escaping down his cheek. Shizuo opened his mouth and pressed his tongue firmly against his tightly clenched teeth until Izaya responded and let him deepen the kiss. Shizuo tasted his blood and his tears, and he placed one hand gently on Izaya's side, pulling him closer. Conflicting warmth collided with the shramming cold of their mercilessly short future, as both of them were swept away in the tender expressions of the moment. At length, Izaya pulled away for a breath, and touched his forehead against Shizuo's.

"This can't work," he breathed. "Shizuo...we can't-" his words were cut short as Shizuo caught his mouth in another kiss.

"I don't care if it works or not!" he growled, pulling his mouth away and crushing Izaya tightly in his arms, again. "I don't care!"

"I have nothing I can give you, now..." Izaya whispered, sadly.

"You've already given me something," Shizuo said, burying his face into the nape of Izaya's neck. He squeezed him so tightly, Izaya could barely breathe, desperate to feel as much of him as possible. "Just give up, flea. I'm not going anywhere." Izaya's body began to tremble once more.

"You're really dumb, Shizu-chan," Izaya chuckled through his tears.

* * *

><p>Shizuo walked back home after the funeral, completely numb. He tried, unsuccessfully, to block out the feeling of Izaya's lips, the way his body moved underneath him, the few, often blissful months he'd been able to share with what he considered to be the most remarkable thing ever to happen to his life. Eventually, he gave up, letting the tears flow freely again, ignoring the troubled stares he received. Izaya had lived far beyond any physician's prediction, but it wasn't long enough. It wasn't eternity, but still, it had been something. Even with the precautions Shizuo had to take to be with him, he couldn't imagine a more contented feeling existed. He only hoped that Izaya had understood that, in the end. The ex informant had accepted his affections, cautiously at best, and at times would put a stop to it altogether. Shizuo could see the pain in his eyes, one worse than any physical ailment could ever cause, and it only confirmed his resolve to make Izaya understand. He wanted desperately for him to know that it didn't matter what had transpired in the past, and it didn't matter what physical challenges he faced; Shizuo utterly adored him. Not because of his looks, not because of his vast intellect, not because of the powerful position he once held in the underworld of Ikebukuro; Izaya's worst fears had been long since realized, as those qualities of himself slowly faded away. It was because he was simply Izaya, even in the end, and their bond was unbreakable. It was common knowledge to the body guard, and he couldn't understand how someone so smart just couldn't see it that way all of the time.<p>

In the end, Izaya had slipped away while Shizuo was on an out of town business trip with Tom. He'd received a phone call from Shinra on the plane ride back. Oddly enough, it came as no great surprise to the body guard. In fact, it occurred to him that Izaya would have wished for him to be gone when the time came for his life to end, the way a feline disappears from all it's familiar surroundings when their time is near. After all, Izaya never fully confessed his love. Shizuo guessed he'd never know for sure exactly how the informant had felt, what had motivated him to behave the way he did throughout the years. What drove someone so beautiful to him to behave so vehemently toward his own kind. Shinra had tried to explain to him the anxiety caused by his illness, how one would feel differently about society, but Shizuo wasn't really listening. Nobody knew how Izaya truly felt, and he didn't delude himself for a moment that the underground doctor would have answers for him. Shizuo sometimes wondered if even Izaya knew how he felt all of the time.

He heard the puttering of a motorcycle behind him, and stopped walking, turning slightly to the side as Celty drove next to him. He waited in a daze as she typed on her phone.

_"Shizuo, I'm so sorry for your loss. I have something for you from him."_

From him...

Shizuo swallowed the large lump in his throat and closed his eyes as Celty handed him a small, folded note. With unseeing eyes, he stared at the neat lettering for a while before actually comprehending Izaya's words to him. He clenched the note tightly in his hand, bringing it up to his forehead and grit his teeth. Celty reached out her hand to grip his arm in comfort, but before she touched him, the bodyguard's shoulders began shaking. Suddenly, Shizuo threw back his head, roaring with laughter. Alarmed, Celty flinched and retreated. She watched him curiously, until all of his hysterical mirth was spent, and he was chuckling quietly, with his head down.

_"Shizuo, what's wrong?"_

He could barely read the words threw his laughter, and he had to squint to see. He clapped a hand on her shoulder, unexpectedly, and drew her into a one armed hug.

"Thanks, Celty," he breathed. She tilted her head in confusion, and in answer, he held up the note. "He was really a flea, wasn't he?" he asked with a smile, tears streaming down his face. Celty got off of her bike and hugged him tightly, letting his head drop on her shoulder. She quickly typed something and held it out to the side for him to read.

_"Izaya was many things...but I think he was very much in love with you. As much as he possibly could be."_

"I know..." Shizuo took a deep, shaky breath. He lifted his eyes to the bright blue sky and watched the clouds slowly drift over the city. He heard the sounds of traffic in the street, and the murmuring and footsteps of pedestrians walking by them. He heard the pigeons cooing atop the street lamp over their heads, and the familiar splash of a nearby fountain. Life continued on, in spite of everything.

'But just you wait, Izaya... Wait for me...'

In the end, Izaya was simply one step ahead of him, yet again. But he would get there. He and all of the beloved humans would get there, someday.

The End


End file.
